


shift || gear

by dracoon



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: AU Cyrus is a go I guess, Other, depressed old man ages ten years in another world, hah baited you into clicking, he's aro/ace, is babysat by a gazillion people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 26,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoon/pseuds/dracoon
Summary: After falling into the Distortion World, Cyrus remains deluded in his belief of being a god- but gods don't form relationships and certainly aren't about to cooperate with anything life throws at him...
Relationships: Akagi | Cyrus & Shirona | Cynthia, Akagi | Cyrus/Giratina, Akagi | Cyrus/Saturn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cyrus is strictly an AU of the Pokespe Platinum chapter. This takes place ten years after the events between the DP chapter, in which I reimagine Cyrus to end up with copious issues being trapped in the Distortion World like this.

It was a strange sight to see the blue-haired man shopping in the Pokemart’s aisle. A Honchkrow sat on his shoulder, biting at his ear and guiding him along as he mechanically reached out to grab some cereal and a box of Pokepuffs for his Pokemon, occasionally some toothbrushes for himself. Whispers rose behind him while he queued but he seemed to either be unaware of this or staunchly ignoring them as he continued to walk, his trolley filled with groceries while his Weavile followed next to him, helpfully keeping an eye out for any mischief. 

After checking out at the counter, the man loaded his groceries onto his helpful Magnezone, who whirred and beeped worriedly for its master. “I will be alright,” he reassured with a small smile, pulling out a black cane from his jacket pocket and extending it to full length, “Let us walk.” The Magnezone gave a sad beep but floated along obediently, keeping in step with its master as he used the cane as a pivot for himself, seemingly acting as though it was a fashion accessory than a mobility aid for the distances he couldn’t gauged anymore. People avoided him like the plague, but to him, it instead was a cleared path for him to navigate much more easily. It was just a minor compromise for someone who now staunchly believed he was a god. Of course they would need to move away from him. He would rule over them eventually anyway. 

He hadn’t been in a good mood like this for a while, after he had devoted himself into the creation of a world without spirit or soul. When the events of the Spear Pillar had occurred with the children thwarting his plan, Giratina had grabbed him at the final moment and submerged him into a reverse dimension- the Distortion World, which was exactly the world of emptiness he craved. It was difficult to reconcile things as first while he seethed about his only defeat, but eventually he seemed to understand. He thanked the creature for letting him understand what it was...and from there, he built himself a house to take root in the strange world that defied physics and reality entirely. 

It was arduous, even with the help of his Pokemon, but after some time, he had managed to make something makeshift for himself. It was strange, really, for all of the man’s studies, the odd physics of the place made the little stone cottage seem almost unstable, but somehow, he was still able to survive within it as if he was simply looking out from his office in Veilstone. Even without the expected technologies such as electricity and food, the man still sustained himself somehow, the laws of the realm seeming to take a hold of him even more as time passed. He no longer felt hungry or bored within it, his body and his Pokemon’s kept in suspended animation as though he had never left. He bided his time in there at first, worried about retribution but eventually even this grew too much for him and he reached out first, offering a truce to the beast. 

The creature ferried him around, showing him wondrous sights it had created in its loneliness like reverse waterfalls and a vortex of suspended stones. He embraced this, feeling a sense of belonging he had never felt in his own world. Despite all this, despite this anchoring him to his new world, the man knew that he had things to do and people he had to make up to after his sudden disappearance. It agreed, and he was returned, if not briefly to his world with the creature in tow. After all, it still did not quite feel it could trust the man, all things considered, and if the man were to attempt another apocalypse, it could easily stop it. They agreed that he would walk, and it would follow him in his shadow. Any misstep, and it would engulf him once again. 

Of course, a story like this would never end well, considering how dark the Distortion World was, and the man now found himself no longer able to see in his world, the brighter lights in the normal world far too much of a strain to his eyes. It was ironic, he inwardly mused, that someone like him who deeply abhorred the ugliness of human nature could not witness it. To him, it was for the best. Letting himself relax on the patch of grass while he listened to the world go by, he suddenly felt as though he was detached from this equation completely. For once, he was at ease with himself. Even the shadows seemed comforting as he embraced his anonymity, letting others take the lead. 


	2. Plans and Parole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giratina loves him. He doesn't share that sentiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading en masse! I am trash.

He shut his eyes and went to Veilstone first, making the announcement to disband Team Galactic once and for all. Disappointed by the disarray it had fallen into after his disappearance, he saw little point in letting this persist. His goals had been achieved, and he had no more reason to have such a following. This decision however threw the admins into a loop, Saturn insisting this must have been some sort of cruel joke that his master had been delivered by death only to destroy what they had worked so hard for. The man only smiled and admitted he  _ did _ had one more job for his loyal admins to do: a pair of shades dark enough for him to use in the human world. At the smirk he gave them, his admins collectively stiffened, realising how important this was to their leader, and they were forced to agree. Who were they to argue about something like this? 

His next stop brought him to the three Lakes, where the Guardians he had captured before slumbered while resting from their prior injuries. Initially, they reacted with hostility, fearful of the man, but they sensed the man’s now surprisingly pure heart and granted him an audience. “I apologise for my treatment of you,” he found himself repeating, his voice genuine and no longer resentful, “And I thank you for teaching me a worthy lesson, something I would have never been able to learn alone.” 

The Guardians tinkled, seeing that he now understood himself, and soon left him, satisfied with his statements as well as the change of heart he had. The Guardians knew that he no longer saw them as tools to create his Red Chain, but equals he wanted to make up to.  _ Keep your pure heart, Cyrus _ , the whispers echoed at the back of his mind,  _ You will need this.  _ He would see himself return many times more, conversing and learning about each of the guardians of the lake and carefully dismantling everything he had known about them. They never manifested before him, instead speaking to him through telepathy as though he was but an old friend. They also assisted in his current state of affairs, informing him of the seasons that passed while he was away, but even then it never mattered to the man who seemed to feel the same as before. 

The final stop he had visited was the Spear Pillar- on its insistence. The climb was arduous, but he forced himself through it, braving the harsh snowstorms until he felt the gentle breeze that would lead to the platform where he had first been pulled in. His knees buckled, and a lump formed in his throat that sent a wave of nausea through him. “I cannot do it,” he murmured to nobody in particular, “I do not think I am strong enough.” The red eyes from his shadow watched him, blinking once but not saying anything to him. He knelt on the floor for a few moments, allowing his fear to flow freely through him for once instead of not acknowledging its existence and placed his hands upon the freezing stone floor to let it ebb through the runes. He would not stop himself from feeling that same crushing sense of fear he had when it had grabbed him the first time. It was what the beast wanted him to learn, and he knew it would not be denied.

After what seemed like an eternity, he got up and began to shuffle, unable to see where he was going from how dense the snow was and allowing instinct to pull him towards the platform from before. He stood erect with hands outstretched, vertigo threatening to make him fall as the howling gales battered his body. From behind, the figure creeping within his shadow emerged to its full length, unfurling its wings before gently planting its feet onto the ground. __

_ What do you feel? _ asked the all too familiar voice, persistent in forcing him to acknowledge his emotions, and the man spat out that he was fearful for himself- and guilty of everything he had done. He had burnt so many bridges as a businessman in his attempt, and at what cost? The name of being the boss of Team Galactic was but a sham. All he had was the soulless vessel he carried, tethered to one of the most powerful Pokemon in the world and at its mercy. He was a god, but a chained one bound to the whims of this renegade. If he thought deeper, his title was a hollow one. 

“I do not regret it, however,” he added as an afterthought, a slight smirk crossing his weathered features as once more, he began to sink, “I would do it again, if it meant gaining access to the world I envisioned.” Once again, he was falling, but he did not struggle like the first time, opening his eyes as he accepted the descent. He felt himself fall against the creature’s back as it flew, bringing him to his cottage once more and allowing him a few moments of reprieve. 


	3. Interlude Involving a Man Collapsing Into a Chair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Bluh bluh, I am an emotionless psychopath," says the depressed man who looks 50 despite being 27 essentially forever.

Collapsing into a chair from his exhaustion, his laughs echoed through the realm as tears streamed down his sunken cheeks, the dam of suppression cracking and releasing everything he had worked so carefully to mask. After he laughed and cried alone for what seemed like the longest time, he slumped to the side and fell into a deep slumber, exhausted from it all. He hated his ability and recognition of his emotions. It reminded him too much of the spirit he had desperately tried to quash but still retained. 

It soon became some sort of routine that he would occasionally appear to buy items with his Pokemon (a comical sight of a Honchkrow on his shoulder and a Crobat nestled in his hair as a worried Probopass and Magnezone trailed behind, a Weavile gently tugging at his pant leg while he walked) - a Poketoy here, a Poffin there, maybe some Lemonade. While he didn’t need to eat or drink back home, it was merely to keep up appearances. Even a god needed occasional stimulations outside their realm of control. The sunglasses along with a black walking cane were delivered to his old home at Sunyshore City as promised, but nobody came to pick it up. He only came when he felt like it.

Routine soon became him carefully chipping away at a Sphere he had obtained from the Underground to see what size it had grown into, or studying the fossils through these escapades as well as its uses if he were to resurrect them as well as exploring technological advances that other regions seemed to have developed. He began to learn more languages, often curled with a book at the library in Canalave as he voraciously pursued more knowledge. To him, such mundane things had been lost when he had chosen to recreate his world, and now that it was no longer necessary, he could finally relax and do normal Trainer things like everyone else did.


	4. What's the Point of The Tracking Anklet, Anyway?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It serves no purpose besides being strictly ornamental. 
> 
> Also Cynthia follows him around now, I suppose.

This day was no different, with him strolling along the patch of grass leading to Lake Verity, enjoying the breeze with a slight hum as he felt an unsettled Bidoof flee from him and his cane. As he sat down on a smooth rock, dipping his toes into the clear water, he felt someone else approach. A trainer looking to test their luck with Mesprit, perhaps? His Weavile hissed, releasing her grip on his pant leg as she stood between him and the other trainer, not even noticing the slight, amused smirk that crept upon her owner’s features. The man needed no sight to know who had approached him, because nobody else walked around with a Garchomp in broad daylight beside her anyway- the footsteps in tandem was enough to tell him everything. 

“Cynthia. You are a busy woman, are you not. What would bring your presence to me,” the man stated coldly, his disdain to the reigning Champion apparent as he continued to gaze vacantly at the small cave in the middle of the lake, “Unless you are here to speak to Mesprit- provided they would even grant you their presence.” Despite his insults, he felt her sit on the grass beside him, her Garchomp letting out a snarl as he tried to swipe at the pesky Weavile blocking him. The man allowed the silence to stretch on, his only show of this was to push his shades back up his nosebridge but he didn’t allow himself the weakness of speaking first. Finally, she spoke. 

“You’re a criminal,  _ Cyrus _ ,” she began, her tone still as domineering and biting as she often was to him, “I think I have every right to know why you disappear for months and then appear for 2 days before disappearing again.” Unwilling to relinquish his secret, the man gave a shrug. It was pointless to explain, and he wagered she would not believe him anyway. Who would? His shadow glowered at the insinuation, a set of red eyes blinking once before fading as he turned back to the cave entrance. 

“I hide well,” he stated plainly, almost as if he found this conversation ridiculous, “You gave me this nice bangle when I went to the League to turn myself in. Have you forgotten?” He lifted his left leg, showing her the untouched tracking anklet with an air of detached amusement. “Maybe it works less well than it was supposed to. Perhaps I should modify its radius to give you some peace of mind? You seem awfully invested in a petty criminal like myself.” 

He felt Cynthia glower at him for his remark, before she began insisting that he had no means of touching it without setting the League off anyway. The man chuckled softly to himself as he shrugged his shoulders, recalling how he had shocked them by turning himself in at the first place, but with pressure from Saturn and a fear of the media for escalating this even further than they already had starting a potentially world-ending calamity, they had gotten so fed up that they had simply put an anklet on him and called it a day. 

Cynthia scoffed at the connotation of the device being flawed, finding this ridiculous but unable to pin it to something specific. After all, if he had been so traumatised by that first encounter, why would he willingly return to that world constantly? For all her studies in such ancient traditions, she just couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Giratina would supposedly imprinted upon someone who had forced two Legendary Pokemon to summon it- or perhaps she simply refused to accept this. Maybe he had an ounce of truth in his words. He hid well. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. 

They sat in silence for a while, before the man got up and waded deeper into the water- Cynthia froze and lunged forth, expecting him to just fall in but the man instead glided effortlessly to the mouth of the cave, as if he was so light that he could stand over water. “You can’t-” she began, as the man began to rise: the back of his Gyarados was soon visible as he unfurled to his full length, blocking the cave with a mighty roar. Cynthia released her Gastrodon, the slug letting out a bright tinkle as she too ferried her owner to before the imposing Gyarados. She had assumed he was about to threaten Mesprit again, perhaps to even capture it, but instead, she watched him reach out towards the setting sun. The rays filtered through his fingers, and he retracted his hand, contemplating his digits with an air of fascination before reaching for the side of his sunglasses. Cynthia was silent, still standing as she saw the man smile: until she noticed the Mega Stone hanging around the Gyarados’s neck and knew what was about to happen next. 

“Fuck-” She managed to duck out of the way as the man too jumped skilfully onto his Magnezone, revealing the Key Stone on top of his cane as Gyarados began to transform: Cynthia herself was forced to Mega Evolve her Garchomp as well. At last, the Mega Gyarados splashed back into the water with a mighty bellow, a strange pink creature bobbing out from the darkness of the cave.

“Think fast, Cynthia,” he stated plainly, as Mesprit suspended itself in mid-air with a tinkle while blinking the sleep from its eyes, “My time away has taught me many things.” Garchomp dashed through the woods, attempting to attack the Gyarados and tearing through the woods but each time unable to reach the waterborne koi as at last, he jumped out to throttle Garchomp with a powerful Waterfall, turning in a somersault and returning into the water. Garchomp skidded back, unfazed, and Cynthia flicked her wrist in contempt as this sudden assault.

“I never suspected you didn’t have a strong bond with your Pokemon. You have a Crobat after all,” Cynthia scoffed, watching the man float back down to the grass while still having his hand on the cold surface of his Magnezone’s body, “Who did you steal the stone from?” The man gave a slight smirk, almost as if he was not about to acknowledge the question and jokingly offended, before Gyarados allowed himself to get withdrawn into his Ultra Ball once more. When the threat disappeared, Cynthia could finally relax as she too powered down her Garchomp, the enormous land shark returning to its original form as Mesprit gave another yawn, floating away into the cave with a minor chastise of  _ at least inform me next time if you’ve brought a friend!  _ for the man. 

“I-I’ll ask again,” she stated, though there was a quiver in her voice that she could not seem to stabilise from her fear of someone so dangerous managing to suddenly elevate his power, “Who did you steal the stone from? I promise, it’s not as a law enforcer: just a curious Mega Stone user asking a newcomer to Mega Evolution.” The man relaxed on the grass, his sunglasses reflecting against the dying rays of the sun as night descended upon them both before he began to talk, as if trying to keep Cynthia’s presence with him. 

“I had time on my hands. Took a leaf out of Lysandre Industries, and made some research with the Mega Stones and its activation. While it took some attempts, I feel I have reached some stability with it at last. It would not have happened if Gyarados did not trust me.” His brows furrowed at the insinuation of theft, and he turned his gaze to Cynthia with an air of derision. “Do you truly think that lowly of me?” he sighed, not even bothering to hide his offense, “At least I do not go about following criminals to relics around the region out of chronic paranoia.” 

\-----

Cynthia snorted at this, rolling her eyes as she took a seat beside him. “I go there for work purposes,” she started to protest, only for the older man’s gaze to silence her. Even she felt it was a feeble excuse. She didn’t want to be his parole officer, but the League agreed that of the rest of the Elite Four, she was the most powerful and in control. Aaron was far too friendly and got emotionally invested too quickly, Flint would murder Cyrus if he got his hands on him with his hot temper, Bertha preferred having Cynthia assist knowing their rivalry, and Lucian was far too socially awkward to do regular check-ins as aggressively as she did. 

She was the only one who seemed to be able to get a hold of the man on a regular basis. This on and off relationship had persisted over the years Cyrus had reappeared in various parts of Sinnoh, and it frustrated her whenever she saw that he was merely doing mundane things as if she would leave him alone. The day’s encounter at Lake Verity was the first time he had tipped her off to being not what he seemed. They sat on the grass once again for a few more moments, before Cynthia got up to leave. 

“Don’t get into trouble when you’re alone,” she added at last, her tone a lot more gentle than before as she finally took her leave. Deep down, she had a pang of worry having seen the Distortion World and the effect it had upon her and the children who assisted her. Who knew what delusions Giratina was feeding Cyrus at this point? She couldn’t understand his obsession of the matter but saw no need to suggest therapy or pursue it. He at least seemed calmer, much happier than at the Spear Pillar. 

\-----

Weavile joined the man’s side when she was finally out of earshot and the shadows converge once more over the both of them. “We will wake up at the cottage again,” he stated to his Pokemon, everyone getting into position as he felt the pull once again- a single leaf twirled and fell on his original spot, almost as if he had never been there. 


	5. The Puppeteer and Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is a chained god really still a god?

The man looked around once more and gave a slight sigh noticing the place once again shift to his familiar residence. The place was so dark that there was almost no notion of day and night- a single sphere of swirling purple mist signalled the change of seasons, and after what he felt was an eternity moving through the planes, his notes had piled out of the floating stone cabinets he had built himself, power tools scattered everywhere under his feet. He relaxed at the strange creature darting around his window, leaning at his window before he felt something rumble beneath his feet. 

“Not another quake,” he mused aloud, recalling all his Pokemon except his Probopass (who floated anyway) and retreating calmly under his bed, laying down under it for cover. When the tremors did not subside however, the man soon slid out, struggling to regain balance as he fell against his Probopass, clinging against its nose as it stared staunchly forward. The man struggled to the window to see what exactly was unfolding, eventually sliding against it and nearly falling off from the side. 

Whatever he saw next forced the man to stagger back, nearly tripping over a chair in his attempts to get away from the scene as quickly as possible as he tried his best to move as far from the window as he possibly could. 

“No. Arceus, no…” he repeated, clutching his chest as his breathing came in short gasps, unable to rationalise the scene that was unfolding before him. An obviously enraged Dialga was locked in combat with the creature who lorded over the place, and as the roars ripped through the cottage, he felt his vision go dark as his temples pounded hard, something he had never experienced before- by the time he regained consciousness, both creatures were gone and he was lying on his stone bed, his Pokemon out of their balls and milling about to help out around the house.

Weavile lay a warm cloth over his head, whimpering softly in concern as the man glanced around, expecting at least some damage from Dialga’s attack- but he saw that his house was surprisingly intact. Had it attempted to  _ protect _ him? He couldn’t rationalise it, sitting on his bed and watching the shadow of the monstrous being dart past his window and over his house. Giratina had enjoyed its solitude for thousands of years, and harbored such deep resentment towards humans. Why did it feel that he, of all humans deserved its protection, and why had it allowed him to stay? Did it sense the same desire the man had, or did it just do it for the sole sake to teach the man to understand himself? He heaved a sigh, feeling oddly drained from doing virtually nothing and covered himself once more with his blanket of woven straw, trying to sleep. 

It wasn’t long before he jumped back up, unable to rest from the nightmares that plagued him of the earlier incident. The man’s eyes followed the trail of his sleeping Pokemon, his Crobat letting out a soft snore from his lap as his Weavile lay curled up at the foot of his bed. Probopass took up half the living room by itself, covering its eyes with its giant hat while resting and Honchkrow was perched on the windowsill with his head tucked under his wing. Magnezone, however, did not need sleep, and turned attentively to its master the moment it sensed movement. The man opened his mouth, about to command Magnezone when the cold, foreboding rush enveloped them, and a single red eye was visible from the window closer to the man, peering through the window. 

“Why protect me,” he managed to croak out, and he watched the eye blink slowly as if amused by the question. There was a prickle as the beast brushed his mind, teasing him with unspoken answers as the monster drew away, gracefully flying through the distorted cracks and leaving him alone. He huffed again, sifting through his notes as he knew he couldn’t get more sleep. It would still haunt him for some time until his next cycle of reappearing in the waking world, desperate for answers. 


	6. A Long-standing Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does he care? He says no, repressing his emotions like the emotionally compromised smoothie of a man he is

He spent his time at the Canalave Library, getting himself a quiet corner at the side of the reading room to listen to audiobooks about Giratina and the surrounding legends from historical texts. Most he found repeated things he was familiar with- he had done extensive research before summoning Dialga and Palkia, and Giratina’s lore came with the package, but one such narration gave him pause.  _ It was banished for its violence _ , intoned the narrator,  _ This Pokémon is said to live in a world on the reverse side of ours, where common knowledge is distorted and strange.  _

“Common knowledge is distorted,” repeated the man to himself, adjusting his shades as he tapped his chin in thought, “Yet…” He listened on attentively, the narrator speaking of Giratina as a ‘territorial and highly aggressive creature’. His heart sank upon the confirmation that Giratina had just done what it assumed was right to chase a trespasser out, before the narrator continued gently-  _ It also seems to have a connection to reflective objects, such as mirrors and pools of water. Reflections embody the concept of the Reverse World.  _

“Reflection,” the man now scoffed as he scratched his Honchkrow under his chin, extending his cane before sweeping it across the ground carefully, guiding himself out of the room and down the imposing flight of stairs, “Little wonder it held such fascination to the likes of myself.” He felt the salty sea breeze in his face as he navigated his way across the pier, the shouts of the boatowners urging tourists to visit the various islands filling the air around him. It was unbecoming to him, and he knew he could easily have Magnezone ferry him across the water. Even then, he felt the need to keep up appearance. 

“Sir, won’t you like to visit Iron Island?” he heard a young, Hoenn-accented voice shout as he was tugged back with a strong grip on his shoulder (earning an annoyed hiss from his Weavile, who saw this as a threat display), “It’s a great place to train for strong Trainers like you and your Pokemon!” He stumbled backwards in a mixture of bafflement and annoyance as a second voice, this time native rang out and he felt the grip loosen, before he heard some apologies by the captain for her new, rather aggressive mate. 

The man stuck his hand into his coat, feeling for the Pokedollars inside his wallet before offering a few to the captain. “So, exactly how many trips would this grant me?” he asked blandly, not expecting a straight answer. The sharp inhale was enough for him to know that he had secured a quiet boat ride to Iron Island. He hated people who were overly fond of asking questions.

As they got off, the captain launched into a somewhat terrified explanation about the island to the man (an ore mine that got abandoned, apparently), and the man glanced around in curiosity. Under his mostly dark shades, he could still make out the shape of a house in the distance. He made his way up the stone flight of stairs, ignoring the cries of the captain that they were not allowed into the cavern itself. “There were Galactic grunts in there-” the captain finally blurted out behind him, and the man turned upon his heel, finding this news for the first time since he had gotten on the boat. 


	7. Interferences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giratina has sass. 
> 
> Meanwhile, a small cameo by Charon, who would've probably messed around while he was gone.

“Why were they there,” he stated blandly, not recalling giving any orders to search this island in particular, and was met with a stuttering response that made little sense. They were challenging passing Trainers and keeping them out? Why would he even bother with an island like this, anyway? It was uncharacteristic for Saturn to give such orders, either. Saturn was far too lazy to sweep a far-off island with little resources. Annoyed now, the man began to search the cave at his own pace, trying to relax while also recollecting his thoughts. Team Galactic had long been disbanded. Who was audacious enough to act on his behalf? How  _ dare _ they act in his name? 

\-----

He rested upon a rock, finally piecing together the reason why  _ his people _ had been moved. Only one of his deputies had such power and he knew exactly who it was. “Charon,” he muttered to himself, unable to hide the contempt in his tone as he rapped the cane against the ground. A rumble erupted from the spot he had pounded on, and he felt himself lifted skywards by an irate Steelix, who bellowed and tried to shake the offending human off. The man wobbled, but reached out instinctively to grab his Magnezone in time to be delivered to the ground- and his Weavile shot forth, eagerly awaiting orders as the Steelix bellowed once again, angered at being disturbed. 

“We have not fought wild Pokemon in a while now, have we,” laughed the man quietly as the Steelix slammed down upon the much smaller Pokemon with its tail, only to have the Weavile swiftly scale up the side of its long body, “You know what to do, Weavile.” The weasel easily spun forth and struck at the Steelix with a well-aimed Brick Break, acrobatically landing beside his owner as the iron snake crumbled to the ground, no match for a direct and Super-Effective hit. He knelt down on one knee upon his Magnezone to steady himself, landing once more on the ground before waving his arms vigorously, unused to the sudden shift of gravity under his feet. 

The tremor sent through the cave sent Zubats and Golbats alike flocking out in bursts, and several voices rose around the man from concerned campers and workers who seemed to have witnessed this occur. Glancing around, the man took in the blobs that were staring and immediately directed his gaze to the ground, large calloused fingers running through his electric blue hair as if chastised by his behavior and show of emotion. It felt bizarre to not be condemned for once, and he dismounted his Magnezone with fluidity as he had done many times before, dusting himself off self-consciously. 

Magnezone floated quietly beside the man, ready to fight when necessary, and the three eyes of the titan narrowed when a worker shot forth- to catch the man whose knees had suddenly buckled from the burst of activity. He accepted the help easily, a gesture rare from the usually stoic man, allowing himself to be helped to a nearby rock. The worker dusted the man off once more, insisting that he and his Lucario had been minding their own business but was quickly silenced by the Weavile once again hissing protectively and standing between them both. The man reached out to hold his Weavile by the shoulder, and she seemed to calm herself as he mentally searched the chamber he was in. 

Smaller than expected, quite a shame really. He lobbed an Ultra Ball towards the fallen Steelix, easily capturing it for his own use. If he were to be travelling deeper underground, some assistance would be appreciated. 

At movement, his Honchkrow bristled, and the man raised his arm to release the bird forth. “Bring those who claim to serve Galactic to me. They will recognise you. I am certain of it,” he commanded, and the Honchkrow flew further towards the exit, unhindered in his approach. 

\-----

The man chatted with the worker in the meantime, seeking to learn more about the movements of the Galactic grunts that had mysteriously appeared. The worker, who called himself “Riley”, had always minded his own business, but as the conversation stretched on, the man twitched uneasily. The miners did not own Lucario, it made no sense when they would naturally employ excavators like Machamp or even the native Steelix or Graveler to do the heavy lifting.   
  
“Who are you,” the man spoke again after a long silence and from the field of his vision, the darkness seemed to give him clarity of the man’s features: a dark-blue haired man who seemed like he was dressed in an equally blue three-piece suit, not the worker he claimed to be. Riley gave the man a bow, but he picked up a derisive huff from him as he finally introduced himself as but a wandering trainer that specialised in Steel-type Pokemon. 

_ An apprenticing Aura Guardian _ , whispered the familiar voice in the man’s mind,  _ They know that we are two, and if they were to fight, they would be outnumbered.  _ Riley seemed to tense as though he had heard the voice too, but the man merely cast a disinterested gaze past him towards the tunnel his partner would then emerge from, once again perching comfortably on his shoulder. He staggered back to his feet, offering Riley genuine thanks despite himself as he began to walk once again, a careful shuffle compared to his usual confident amble. 

Riley had pointed out the Iron Ruins, long forgotten with the flock of trainers that had set off on adventures to other regions for tourism. Charon obviously craved the power that lay beyond its stone doors, and had defied his orders to continue excavations. The man moved surprisingly quickly, eventually reaching the location his Honchkrow had helpfully scouted out and revealing the grunts that immediately skittered to a heel at his appearance. Seeing the hunched form of his previous commander, the man waited patiently until the other finally turned around, and managed to crack an unnerving smile unlike his usual pensive self. 

\-----

“Sir! You came out of retirement just to visit us?” wafts the craven voice that grated on his nerves, and the man stared blankly ahead instead, his face now an unreadable mask. Once, this was the man who was one of his four commanders, who had been in charge of the technology and inventions he would use to build his perfect world. Now, he was but an ill-trained subordinate, and was now grovelling to him upon being discovered. He beckoned one of the grunts over, who immediately stumbled upon himself to follow his lead. 

“Tell me, Charon. Why did you come here.” His voice is cold, controlled as he glanced around the ritual chamber with feigned curiosity. “I felt I was very clear in disbanding Team Galactic and stopping further excavation in Iron Island.” Frantic footsteps joined his echoing voice after he finished his sentence, and once again, his eyes adjusted to the familiar presence of Cynthia. To his credit, he cracked a tiny smirk before gesturing towards the now-cowering researcher before him. 

A whimper escaped Charon as he wilted under the gaze of the Champion. “B-but sire, the l-legendary Pokemon Regigigas merely l-lies b-beyond this c-chamber…” he eked out feebly, and the man shivered visibly hearing the unhinged laughter of the presence with him inside his mind. 

_ So many excuses. Trust is a fickle construct. _ it taunted softly, but the man schooled his face into an unreadable mask and instead opted to have Cynthia do all the talking instead. There were too many eyes and ears. He could feel the immense pressure of the creature who audaciously followed his every movement tear at his frame, like a bowstring pulled taut. 

Cynthia babbled on again about the significance of the ruins, and eventually elected to have Charon arrested. She paused seeing the man again though, and he didn’t need his vision to know that a scowl had replaced her usual pleasant features. “You seem to keep finding yourself in these convenient positions where your so-called disbanded team move around,” she began, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “You’re coming with me to the station with the rest. I’m done trying to shield you. First at Lake Verity, and now this, with you openly consorting with them. If you resist arrest, your sentence will be lengthened. This isn’t a threat but a promise.” 

His face remained impassive, almost amused at the woman’s pitiful attempt to intimidate him. The shadows around him shifted uneasily at this, and he took a step backwards before mockingly saluting Cynthia, his smirk not ebbing as he once again fell through the familiar hole into the darkness. The man knew that it would always be there. It wasn’t too difficult to infer that someone else was with him. As he fell, he heard a second voice ring out: Riley’s, who seemed even more agitated than Cynthia and now aware of their symbiotic relationship. 


	8. Interlude 2: Man Does Not Collapse Into Chair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tfw bae is possessive and doesn't like you talking to other girls

_ Mine. He is  _ **_mine_ ** _. _ The voice writhed in his mind, agitated by the woman’s words. 

He called out in reply when his feet managed to touch the ground, cupping his hands over his mouth to ensure his voice travelled. “Do not worry for me. Your prisoner can take care of himself.” The tone he took is slightly amused, but from the red eyes that twinkled and followed, they seemed satisfied by the answer as well. He was bound to their every whim now, marionetted by their ability to open portals to go wherever they felt like. 

For someone else, this would have been an irksome affair. The man found this immensely interesting. In fact, he preferred the place he now resided. It was peaceful and silent, just the way he had envisioned his new world. 


	9. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lied when I said events happened in between the Pokespe chapters. Spoilers for Ultra Sun and Moon abound, tread lightly if you haven't played yet.

His dreams remained bland, but words followed of a language he didn’t quite seem to grasp. Clarity soon formed: someone was calling to him, a man’s voice. “Join Rainbow Rocket, Cyrus. I await you at my castle.” The man sat up abruptly, now belatedly noticing the figure now standing in the room with him and instinctively glancing out of the window: the beast continued to hover ominously, as annoyed as he was about this new arrival. 

The figure removed his cloak to reveal a much-older man, a rainbow “R” pin emblazoned upon his three-piece suit as he approached the man, who immediately flinched away with a warning hiss. The beast outside bristled visibly but did not approach at the man’s reaction, seemingly waiting for a command of some kind. “Heed my call, renegade,” the man spoke, eyes not once leaving the figure that still had his hand outstretched to him, “If I lose my perfect world, you must find me again. You  _ must _ .” Satisfied by the clauses the man laid down for it, the creature flew away into the abyss, and he glowered towards the other who had invited himself to his perfect world. 

“I have little for you, Giovanni,” he warned softly, his Pokemon sensing the tense mood of the room and turning to face the figure as well, “I refuse to partake in your games.” Giovanni glanced out of the window, as though harboring a secret he couldn’t quite tell in his gaze. 

“You will,” Giovanni whispered, billowing his cloak as he seemed to vanish from view, “There is little for you ruling no-man’s-land, Cyrus. You know your ambitions of godhood stretch much further than this.” 


	10. Semantics, Semantics.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cynthia joins the fray as she figures out about what the fuck is happening 
> 
> Also, casual lore drop for grandpa too

Cynthia was troubled after the incident at Iron Island. She knew that Giratina had favoured Cyrus from the beginning when he had been taken. While she didn’t know if Cyrus himself was aware of how much time he had spent in the Distortion World, Cynthia knew that his first reappearance had been a year after he and Giratina vanished. It troubled her that Cyrus was appearing all over Sinnoh as and when he pleased with this powerful Pokemon at his beck and call. The incident at Iron Island, where he had simply fallen into a void with perfect finesse was the last straw. 

She had cycled to the Battle Zone with her Garchomp, hoping for some answers. There were rumors about his grandfather living on one of the routes, having a cottage to himself. As she entered the cozy residence, the first thing that struck her was that of several photographs on the mantelpiece, all of a smiling, blue-haired boy holding an Egg and then a Sneasel by the armpits as he beamed up at the camera. The old man shuffled to his feet noticing her, giving a small smile and bow to her as she hastily responded in kind, still conscious of things. 

“Dear Champion...would you lend an ear to an old man like me? I know you must’ve come to ask about my grandchild…” he began, his smile pained and guilty as he poured her some tea. Cynthia sat in the living room, scanning the photo frames painstakingly placed around the house. She could almost trace all the times Cyrus had obtained his individual Pokemon from the pictures, and how happy he seemed then to have them with him. It was difficult to reconcile this with the coldly logical and nihilistic man she had battled with on several occasions. 

She straightened again with murmured thanks as she was offered the tea, and the man spoke quietly. “He...was burdened by his parents’ expectations. Nothing he did seemed to please them, and eventually he withdrew into tinkering with machines, believing that was the only thing that would offer him solace,” he continued softly, and Cynthia internally marvelled at the resemblance they both had, “Maybe I should’ve taken him in then and raised him myself. I don’t know if that would have been a good decision or not. All I knew was that he died years ago, fighting for what he believed in.” The old man began to shudder at this. “If I had taken him in then, maybe Rue wouldn’t have died…” 

Rue? Cynthia’s brow raised immediately at this. She reached out and patted the man’s shoulder, trying to seem comforting but the cogs in her mind began to turn. If his grandfather was so torn up about the matter, he would inevitably visit. A few moments passed as the old man continued to sob, before he finally hiccoughed himself to silence and sat down on the couch, gaze sullen and guilt-ridden. Cynthia’s attention was drawn to a light rap on the door, almost lost if there wasn’t a pin-drop silence in the room and went over to open it: sure enough, the pallid man with sunglasses was there, a basket in hand as his eerily calm demeanor betrayed some measure of annoyance. His Weavile however seemed friendly and happy for once, though this eventually devolved into fierce hissing upon seeing Cynthia in her presence. 

“Were you going to leave the basket and go?” she whispered to Cyrus, unable to hide her annoyance as he studied her calmly, “He thinks you’re  _ dead _ ! The least you could do is greet him--” Cyrus raised a hand to shush her, peering past her to take in the old man before returning his stoic gaze to her. 

“Grief and guilt are byproducts of a weak-willed spirit,” he replied, tone as cold and apathetic as she remembered him, “Does it matter if he knows I am alive? I am no longer who he wishes to see. Imperfect and craven, I would only bring him more suffering by letting others know I persist. Your knowledge is enough. I do not wish to implicate anyone else.” Cynthia found herself at a loss once more at his words, but deep down, she understood what he meant. It was pointless for his grandfather to know about him. 

Why would anyone want someone they loved and respected to know they had become a criminal? Cyrus was prideful and confident. He knew that any knowledge of his offenses to his grandfather would crush the old man’s spirit even further. She watched as he left the basket of food items behind, somewhat taken aback to see the man smiling fondly as he rearranged the baguette slices before he stood once more and began to walk. 

Cynthia gave chase, easily jogging up to the man and offering her hand for a handshake. It was quite unlike herself, really, but she felt uneasy knowing what seemed to be Cyrus’s secret when he knew nothing about her. If they were going to keep playing this game of cat and mouse, she should even the playing field. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone at being blocked for the second time that day. Cynthia grinned as she offered her hand once more, looking back at him with newfound determination in her eyes. 

“I found out your name from your grandpa. I think it’s only fair that I share mine too. Hi, I’m Shiro,” she replied in a chipper tone, “Can...can I call you Rue? Would that be alright? If not, I can still keep calling you Cyrus. That’s fine too.” 

The man searched her features from beneath her shades, hesitating before he stiffly accepted the hand. “You may. Consider it a reward for keeping my secret this long,” he finally managed to respond, “I will remember you, Shiro.” 


	11. Semantics, Semantics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the other side of the coin, Cyrus contemplates a visit to his grandfather.

He had wanted to see his grandfather. It had been a while for them both. Even from a distance, just seeing him well and alive was enough for him. For him, time passed differently in the Distortion World, and a few weeks spent in there meant years had passed without his knowledge. His grandfather was the only person who believed in him and everything he did, and he preferred to keep it that way. Even Weavile had been given to him by his grandfather as his very first Pokemon. 

This heightened with the visit from Giovanni. How had the man intruded upon his perfect realm and stirred up such  _ awful _ , dreaded emotions within him? He needed further contingencies. What else would Giovanni do if he was able to simply come and go from where he was? His grip tightened upon the cane he used to overcome the obstacles of navigating a now mostly dark world, unable to fathom or consider this threat to his godhood. He hadn’t just come for his grandfather, for sure. There was plenty of research to be done if he was going to be invaded like this. 

The man felt the knot of dread form in the pit of his stomach as he kept walking, led by Weavile who had a spring in her step visiting her childhood home. He couldn’t possibly speak to his grandfather face to face. Letting him know he was alive would open the floodgates of  _ emotion _ to cloud his desire to stay in his perfect world, and tether him to the flawed one he had chosen adamantly to destroy and later leave behind. Obsessively arranging the bundles he had purchased, he could feel the voice reaching out to him again, red eyes blinking once in the shadow he had grown so accustomed to growing. 

_ You worry for the old human.  _ it spoke in his mind, though for once its tone seemed...curious.  _ Why worry for someone like him? Does he truly matter that much to you? You had kept him in the dark about your illicit affairs. Why complicate things further now dragging him into the mess you’ve made with your life? What benefits would he gain knowing you are being hunted?  _

The man’s fists unconsciously clenched at the voice’s statements, but he controlled his rage as he continued to head further up the route on his Magnezone, the titan easily recognising the route to one of its owner’s favourite places. It was nothing he could explain to the renegade anyway. The bond was something it would never understand. As he stopped at the door, he hesitated on just leaving the basket behind but Weavile had happily jumped the gun and rapped on the door with her claws, eager to be let in. To his surprise and chagrin, the person who opened the door was not him, but  _ Cynthia _ . 

It was always Cynthia. She followed him around like some sort of persistent shark-riding bloodhound, hindering him at every approach. Her presence irked him. It reminded him of why he needed a world without spirit, for her passion overwhelmed him. For that, he disliked her for making him feel those darker emotions he had chosen to keep hidden, and the constant snark didn’t help.  She then offered...a truce of some kind.  _ She knew his name _ , and yet shared her own like the trusting, naive Champion she was. 

He filed this away for later, accepting this into his stride. It didn’t matter what he was called, anyway. He meant nothing in the grander scheme of things, and the title too was nothing he could care about. All he needed was the world he’d made, and he had his own space now to live out the rest of his days. Giovanni was just a complication. He’d cross the bridge when he got there. 


	12. You Are The Sun; And I Am Just a Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew the whole damn city thought it needed him, but not as much as Saturn did. ;)

Once again, he meandered to the museum in Oreburgh. Much had to be done if this “Rainbow Rocket” was so persistent. They were wrong. He had succeeded. He had no reason to join forces with them. Even then, the man’s words seem to take root in his mind.  _ There was little for him ruling no-man’s land _ . The man shook this out of his mind, adjusting the long scarf he had looped around his neck to give the displays a once-over. He paused at a strange rock labeled only as a “Wishing Star”, and then the next one that merely said “Z-Crystal”, humming in slight curiosity and amusement. 

Apparently the distant Galar region was putting out calls for competent Trainers to take on their Gym challenge. Once he was done with his ascension, perhaps it was time for a vacation. Sunny Alola had opened their doors for visitors to challenge their trials as well, and the man inwardly mused that it would be a welcomed change from Sinnoh which was always sweater weather. The thought of having various tourism spots to visit seemed to brighten his mood a little, a suitable distraction for someone like him. He was a god now. He could do anything he wanted. Why be bound by arbitrary norms like money and time? 

He was joined by the familiar blue-headed man who swaggered confidently towards him, a small smile gracing his features as they both viewed a slideshow of Roark showing the camera a Skull Fossil he had unearthed. “He’s such a fucking  _ tool _ ,” Saturn snorted in annoyance as he turned back to his previous boss, “What brings you here to watch this idiot pull up weird rocks, anyway?” 

“Always gifted with your words, Saturn,” sighed the man, both wistful and amused by the other, “How are things back at Veilstone. Anything I should take note of?” They hadn’t been conversational in such a long time, and the man missed that. He missed Saturn’s wisecracking and irreverent attitude to him, something the rest of Galactic would never dare to even attempt, let alone be able to pull off with finesse. They began to walk from the exhibits, and the man reached out to touch some of the flowers that lined the route while they walked. Saturn stopped short, turning on his heel to stare back with curiosity and fascination. 

“Sky’s falling, boss. Haven’t seen you so chipper since you pulled that caper on Spear Pillar,” Saturn’s replies were as quick and snarky as the man remembered it. If only Saturn was on board with his ideal. He knew that the other had been opposed upon knowing that he wished for a world that had no spirit in it: and frankly, Saturn had admitted then that he feared the man, worried that he would not be able to inherit his mantle the same way. 

The man shook his head stiffly, and they stopped under one of the larger trees as some Drifloons bobbed away from the afternoon breeze. “You never answered my question. I do not think you came to Oreburgh for sightseeing,” he added quietly, cutting to the chase. He despised Saturn’s inability to speak his mind on relevant matters. It was no wonder he could never tell Saturn about his plan to erase the universe to replace it. He knew that Saturn would inevitably pussyfoot around it. 

“We got a visit from this man from Kanto. Said he was some Rainbow Rocket person and wanted to collaborate. I turned him away and told him we don’t do that anymore. Galactic is clean now, just as you wanted it to be, boss.” Saturn looked towards the sky, then back to his boss, the gentle smile he held fading into one of concern as he watched the man visibly stiffen at that mention. “Extremism isn’t a solution, though. Hear me out on this one thing, please. We’ve been working together for decades, Rue. Come  _ on _ . Once I got the ping from your anklet, I was off on Alakazam like a damn bullet. I knew I had to see you. You need to know about these things. You’re still the boss.” 

“Here I am, Dosei,” The man’s tone remained as dry and disinterested as ever, “You have seen me. Tell me more about the visitor, then.” Every time he had a conversation with Saturn after the first time he had reappeared, it always devolved into prattle about extremism never being a solution. It had been the goal from the very beginning. He would expect someone who knew him so well to be understanding. He reckoned he would never see eye to eye with Saturn about the matter and was resigned to it. The cogs in his mind began to turn, though. If Giovanni had visited Veilstone and tried to pressure Saturn into cooperating, who would he visit next? 

Saturn fluffed his hair while he began to share animatedly, seemingly happy to have the man’s attention: it wasn’t gelled into the two cowlicks he liked when he had been working with the man, but instead flopped in a lazy poof atop his head. The man would never admit it, but he liked it better that way. An obsession with beauty was a weakness and flaw. His natural self seemed so much better. He nodded along, masking his worry fluidly while listening to his schemes. Eventually, Saturn gave a stretch, grinning back at the man and seeming unfettered about the matter. 

“I’m not afraid of that Rainbow Rocket person, Rue. You know I’d do anything for you that isn’t...well, y’know, deleting the world and restarting it,” he replied fluidly, his eyes seemingly disappearing as he smiled radiantly towards him, “Anyone who tries to threaten Galactic, I’d fight tooth and nail for. I want to believe that we’re at least going back to trying to power the world.” The man saw through this effortlessly, and knew Saturn was in fact worried about the matter, as worried as he was. Saturn was definitely one of his most competent subordinates, but compared to the likes of Giovanni and who he had probably reached out to, Saturn would be crushed in an instant if he tried to defend Galactic from a full-on assault. 

\-----

The man had a decision to make now. He could not put his life’s work in harm’s way even after his ascension. While he was a god now, he chose to believe he was a benevolent one. “Dosei. I appreciate your loyalty. For this, though, you must step aside,” he responded after a stint of silence to think about what he wished to say next, “This is a conflict between myself and Giovanni. I will take matters into my own hands if he is audacious enough to visit again. You must trust me on that.” Saturn seemed to light up at the mention of his return, but then narrowed his eyes in suspicion. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?” he snapped now, narrowing his eyes as the man propped his head up with his arm, “You’re the stiffest block of wood I know, but you’re making that face. Is this dude total bad news, or just maybe bad news?” The man’s reflective shades reflected nothing in return, the same hollow void that seemed to lull his mind as he decided what to do next. 

Saturn would be greatly distressed again, he assumed, though he knew it had to be done. It had to be him and nobody else. 

He was  _ definitely _ about to do something stupid. 


	13. Complications: Electric Boogaloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Local man throws himself to the wolves because he thinks it helps 
> 
> It doesn't

The man was ready by the next visit Giovanni would pay him. He had packed a meagre few items for his little voyage, having no need for much and trusting in the capabilities of his Pokemon in assisting him. All his Pokemon were kept in their Pokeballs save for Weavile, and he had elected to only bring half his usual team instead. Magnezone, Probopass and Gyarados stayed in the cottage with the beast while Crobat, Honchkrow and Weavile came with him. It seemed a little too front-loaded otherwise, bringing his usual team. Predictable too, and he disliked being read like an open book. Variety was the spice of life after all. 

He had also picked up one of his other Pokemon from Saturn after the last visit: a Houndoom he had left behind to give his subordinate a well-needed boost of firepower despite Saturn’s infinite protests over her “not fitting his overall team aesthetics”, and after a cursory glance at his current lineup, he seemed to feel somewhat equipped and ready. The long shadow fell over the window again, and he glanced out towards it while giving his briefcase’s contents a last once-over. 

_ Does the boy Sei and the organisation you left behind mean this much to you to invoke my power in such a manner?  _ came the familiar telepathic voice again, not malicious much more than curious by the attitude the man it had chosen seemed to hold,  _ You may or may not return if I send you away like this.  _

“So be it then,” the man chuckled at the mental response, “I am a god. They do not crumble as easily as you assume.” He shut the briefcase with finality as he stood up, the shadows brushing past him in a familiar gesture when they finally began to move once again. 


	14. This Is Why We Should Never Have Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rue hates his new co-workers. 
> 
> Also, self-indulgent work of Archie being an actual puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey fellas is it gay to bond with your archnemesis's soul?

As the shadows finally peeled away for him to step out of, he glanced around in mild fascination at his new surroundings. It was dimly lit, a comfortable living area with various tools he could tinker with and work on in his spare time. Everything was the barest of necessities, just the way he liked it. It was almost as though it had been tailored to his every need. 

Weavile ran to the shut door and pressed her ear up against it as he released the rest of his Pokemon to stretch their legs: Crobat immediately tried to settle into the fluff of his hair like making a nest, Honchkrow perching on his shoulder while Houndoom dashed off to start barking at the noise beyond the door in annoyance. He put on his shades once more for good measure (it could be bright outside for all he knew) before sliding the door open to the two men bickering outside, glancing between them in curiosity and then sudden recognition. One man was barrel-chested and dark-skinned, fully bearded but also sopping wet. The other however was a pale, willowy man that seemed quite singed, huffing and blustering at the other’s insinuation. 

Both of them had deep, Hoennian accents as they continued to argue about the fact that one had engulfed the world in water, and the other had expanded the land completely. The man felt a migraine pinch at the sides of his head listening to the prattle, and it was unrelated to bright lights for once. Maxie and Archie, the two incompetent mafia bosses from across the shore.  _ Of course _ they would have been recruited alongside him for this doomed endeavor. He coughed lightly to interrupt, and the two men turned around to face him, managing to both seem chastised and distracted. 

“Oi! You’re the Galactic guy! Nice ta meetcha, ‘m Archie, boss of Team Aqua!” the dark-skinned man boomed immediately in a cheerful tone, extending a wet hand to shake: the man refused, seeming mortified by the gesture, “Ol’ Giovanni said we were expectin’ ya but I didnae expect ya ta just pop in unannounced. Hate ta see ya walk into me ribbin’ my old pal Maxie here, eh?” The willowy man adjusted his cloak, seeming attempting to tamp down his flustered expressions before turning back to the man with a polite nod. 

“Maxie of Team Magma. Pleased to meet you at last, Cyrus,” the man introduced, giving a small bow of greeting, “I’m sorry you had to see such a graceless display from us. My...husband tends to be very boisterous in his greetings towards me. It’s a language of love from us both, even though we’ve achieved our individual aims where we were before. You could say that it was a race between us of sorts.” A blush took over Maxie’s features at the admission, and the man nodded solemnly at this, not questioning it further. Who was he to pass judgment? They seemed happy about the matter. 

Distracted now from the two men, the man glanced around the interior of the common room they were now standing in: opulent and gaudy, starkly different from how his quarters had been set up. It seemed individually tailored to each person’s needs.  _ A very Giovanni gesture _ , mused the man somewhat bitterly to himself, though it did not lessen his annoyance about being removed from his kingdom in such a manner. He managed a polite smile as Archie loudly introduced the place as “Team Rocket’s Castle” and how it should’ve been flooded with water for Team Aqua’s Fortress instead, Maxie rolling his eyes and huffing under his breath about how they didn’t need even  _ more _ water than they already had here. 

He was led, however, as they continued to chat about the place, towards one of the dining halls, where food had already been laid out for three. The man cast a suspicious glance around the room, wary of being watched and knowledgeable of all the surveillance technology that could be invested but masked his concern quickly sensing nothing just yet. Archie boorishly collapsed into a chair while Maxie demurely sat in one next to him, the two men conversing in their native dialect and teasing as they ate. 

_ Disgusting _ , the man mused inwardly as he calmly started to eat the pastries he was offered, sliding one under the table for his waiting Weavile and Houndoom,  _ Emotional attachment to each other and romance clouded the mind and made one weak. It explained why they were so incompetent.  _ He was still in polite company, though, and performance issues aside, they had been nothing short of pleasant, which surprised him. 

If he knew there would be more bosses, he would have brought his usual team to ward against such attacks. Even then...they were so  _ friendly _ . Did they really not know what they had been summoned here for, or were they lulling him into a false sense of security with them? He couldn’t let his guard down, and these thoughts stayed with him while he idly reached up to scratch his Crobat behind the ears, the large bat wiggling happily at the affection given to it. From beneath his shades, his pale eyes searched the rooms for any exploits or escape routes he could kitbash to leave if he needed to. Just for good measure, in the event he was unreachable even through portals. 

His paranoia was broken by a painful slap to the back by Archie, who gave him a thumbsup and wished him “good luck” for the “big fight” that was due to happen in three days. “Why’re ya wearin’ shades indoors anyway? Sun too bright for ya? I can turn it off,” he joked, reaching out towards the shades as the man immediately flinched back, eyes wide in confused alarm at the gesture. Crobat fluttered up with an annoyed hiss, batting his wings as he flew at Archie’s face, fully intending on protecting his master’s honor as Weavile quickly climbed into the man’s lap, rubbing her face against his chest in an attempt to calm him down. 

Archie’s screams and curses soon faded with the man’s pounding headache making a return, the spike of panic dulling his senses as he felt himself ebb away as well. 


	15. The Practice of Tolerance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rue puts up with his co-workers begrudgingly. 
> 
> Also there's some nibbles about Lysandre now, I suppose.

He soon stirred once more in the comfort of the much-softer bed, the worried faces of his Pokemon surrounding him along with the two apologetic men. Weavile shoved her face into his, checking his bodily functions by lifting his arm up before carefully offering him his shades again. He slipped them back on, glancing towards the two of them in confusion as he finally found his voice once more. 

“I apologise for my behavior. The shades stay on,” he explained in a quiet tone, the admission of weakness seeming more difficult to him than others, “That is all I am comfortable sharing.” Archie scratched his head, giving a nervous grin before slapping the man once again on the arm, insisting that he was just too curious and it was all on him for jumping the gun about things. He sat up again, massaging his temples before searching them both for any sign of malice. Their body language seemed relaxed, as though they had taken this fact in complete stride. How bizarre. He didn’t understand that, but filed this away mentally for later. He had more pressing affairs to demand answers about that didn’t involve the god of a world crumpling to the ground like silly putty. 

“You mentioned a big fight happening in three days. What did you mean by that?” he enquired quietly, keeping his tone earnest and inflection curious. He was slipping back to old tactics for this: put up a front of being weakened and downtrodden, then persuade those who seemed bigger and more knowledgeable for protection. It meant that he needed to spend less resources to achieve more. They would work hard for his sake, and he probably would appreciate this more if he understood the mechanics behind it. To his relief, it seemed to break down their defenses and Maxie began to share what he knew. 

There was apparently some young trainers that were due to visit the castle, and they had been hired (or threatened, the man noted mentally) to defend it and buy Giovanni time until he had time to download everything he needed. The man’s interest immediately piqued at the mention of research- anything that could be used to fortify his world would be much appreciated, and making more discreet enquiries to his new companions, he soon gleaned that these were research notes about the entries and exits to various dimensions and it was why they all had been summoned into this space. 

Suddenly, the pieces seemed to fall in place in the man’s mind: how Giovanni had slipped past even the beast’s notice to enter his house, then evade Saturn’s extensive security system to threaten him directly at Veilstone. It also seemed to dawn on him why the place seemed to not have surveillance of their movements, considering he would not need it. It was quite in keeping with what he knew of the man’s intentions, at least. He glanced quickly to his side, ensuring he still had a shadow despite the dim lighting in the room before massaging his legs and checking that his anklet was still present. It anchored him, reminding him of his place as a chained god. All was well for now. 

Returning to them, he shifted his position with Weavile now on his lap. “What were the plans,” he asked them both, and Archie let out a bark of a laugh about plans.  _ That was reassuring _ , the man mentally sighed to himself. 

“No plans! We just smash through them with brute force!” He replied loudly, waving his fists in the air, “I’m paired with Maxie, of course, I said so. You’re paired with Lysandre. Can’t miss him, some noble stuck-up brat with a mop of orange hair like a lion’s.” 


	16. This Is Why We REALLY Should Never Have Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rue dislikes his other co-worker. 
> 
> He's such a judgmental prick it's honestly hilarious

The man’s eyes narrowed at the name, trying to remember who it was: ah, he remembered Saturn complaining about him the last time they met, the other filling him in about the news around the world. Lysandre was the eccentric who had tried to commit genocide in Kalos by firing a weapon that would bring about the apocalypse. At least he had contingencies about his creation of his world. This other person seemed to have had nothing to back him up beyond apparently killing everyone. 

The man felt he was a benevolent god in his stint back home. Why, then, of all people was he paired off with someone so reckless and selfish? This arrangement disgusted him, but work was work. He took this in, informing the two that he would need to pay a visit to Lysandre then to discuss war plans. To his relief, he was not stopped, and he shakily placed both legs down onto the ground first before overcoming his dizzy spell to stand back up. Weavile harmlessly slid off his lap to land on the ground, following in step with him as they began to walk to the room helpfully pointed out to them. 

It didn’t take long for him to locate the room with the orange flame symbols for doorknobs (they were very tacky and on-the-nose), and he knocked politely before waiting to be let in. Sure enough, he was greeted by a hulking figure with a shock of orange hair, who peered down upon him before giving a pleasant smile. 

“I thought you wouldn’t accept the offer, frankly. From what I read on the news sites, you didn’t seem the type to be invested in such affairs,” the figure spoke now, cutting straight to the chase as he regarded the much smaller and scrawnier man with amusement, “My name is Lysandre. You must be Cyrus, the man I will be working together with, then. A pleasure, though I see you’ve been mingling with Archie and Maxie a little more. Do come in, you seem slightly inconvenienced.” 

The man hid an eyeroll behind his shades, but entered confidently into the room and took in the structure with fascination. His mind buzzed at the complex machines set up all around him, but it was rudely interrupted by the flashing lights from the chandelier, which meant he collapsed into a chair instead of asking about the machines. Lysandre glanced at the cane in the man’s hand, cooing a little at the Mega Stone affixed upon it. 

“Beautiful work. You created this?” he asked quickly, beaming in childlike excitement as he reached out- the man pulled his cane away with a glare he hoped translated through his shades, and Lysandre retracted his hand, “Ah, I apologise. I’m fascinated myself, as a fellow Mega Stone user and one of the pioneers of Mega Evolution in Kalos.” He touched the ring on his left hand, wiggling it for emphasis before giving a nod and reclining upon the couch seeing the man remain staunchly silent despite his attempts at bragging. 

Throughout this, the man kept a calm smile. He had many ideas in mind already, feeling out this Lysandre individual. It would prove interesting to see how easily manipulated the eccentric could be. For now, he was content to let the other keep talking about himself. He didn’t care about Lysandre’s achievements. Why would a god bother himself with the successes of mere mortals? Lysandre overestimated himself, and that amused the man immensely to watch. To him, the other had little to write home about beyond his one big evil deed. Soon enough, the man found himself bored again, glancing around the machines in the room. The thought about flooding the chambers with water suddenly felt very enticing, if it meant dealing with this Lysandre person and leaving no trace of his actions. 

In the end, the chat left much to be desired. They obviously disliked each other and had their own thoughts about the matter. No compromise seemed to be had about what they had in mind to torment their visitors. Lysandre liked his games. The man found it beneath him. There was no other way around this, it seemed. No loss to the man, really. When he was done with things here, nothing could stop him from leaving.


	17. Escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Ultra Sun and Moon. 
> 
> To be fair, can you really fault him?

The trainers did arrive as expected, accompanied by a white-haired man dressed in punk apparel. He recognised him: Team Skull’s Guzma, a difficult and hotheaded young man who had taken over a town in Alola claiming himself a villainous leader. Considering his aims of taking in displaced and lost children, though, it was mere mischief compared to the likes of those he now faced down. 

As the children faced him, he noted with detached curiosity the strength of their spirit. Passionate and fiery, untouched by the sands of life and the suffering it brought. This was what they sought to protect? How deplorable, he mused inwardly, but allowed for this to occur. It was not his world. They could live with their broken and incomplete spirits. He had no control over that, loathe as it irked him to face. 

Strangely enough, their Pokedex seemed to have something else in it. He smiled recognising a Rotom within (it was native to Sinnoh, after all), but when the Pokemon began to protest as well, he released his grip upon it and acted disappointed about the matter. Even their Pokedexes had a spirit in them: a purpose to serve the vessel it used and fear of what he would bring upon their master. It was unique and this made him, someone who invested heavily in machines and invention, happy. He related and understood. 

His Pokemon fought hard against the children’s, but they soon fell as well, unused to the introduction of a new type and ineffective against a coordinated onslaught. It made the man feel alive in comparison being defeated the way he had. This meant he no longer served a purpose in staying on here. 

The children had their methods in protecting their world, and so did he as the reigning god of his own. Their paths should never cross again. He would not wish the combined wrath of the beast and himself upon them. They deserved better, and seemed intelligent enough not to attempt an invasion. 

With immense grace, the man allowed the intruders free reign. They had defeated him fairly, after all. What a truly terrible fate! Bested by children for the second time! He had much less thoughts about it compared to the crushing blow he had been dealt at the Spear Pillar. These children had drive and passion, not unlike his own. Who was he to stop them? He was but a memory that would fade in their minds eventually. 

He exited the station he had been placed in, passing by Archie and Maxie who seemed to have met the same fate. Maxie crawled back up to his feet, holding his head as though annoyed by something before noticing the man staring at him and straightening his posture nigh immediately, trying to regain composure. 

“I don’t mind the kid giving me a beatdown of my life. Par the course for us, really, I think we might be getting used to it,” quipped Maxie, but he cast a worried glance down the hallway, “Ghetsis, though...there’s  _ you _ , and there’s that tool.” The man’s glance followed Maxie’s down the hallway as well, clenching his jaw while he debated what he should do next. 


	18. Escalation: Mental Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Referring to himself not as "the man"! Shocking development from the man with an emotional range of a potato. 
> 
> Trigger warning for mention of neglect and child abuse.

Ghetsis was unique in his methods of separating Pokemon from people, but his attempts at ascension involved an innocent child whose only crime was his bloodline. The man’s plans had his commanders and grunts in between, but brainwashing a child struck a chord that he never wished to reconcile. 

He remembered his own childhood, his rich and busy parents never sparing him a second glance despite all that he did to excel academically and prove himself as competent as they were. Alone in the mansion they lived in back at Sunyshore, his only solace was the Sneasel his grandfather gifted him (even then frowned upon by his parents for being a Pokemon that served little purpose furthering the family business) and the machines he grew accustomed to tinkering with. 

His only friend was Dosei, who stuck with him throughout and had been the one to suggest he start Galactic to break free from his parents’ control, and it was why the man had made Dosei his commander despite the other man’s lazy and irreverent temperament. Dosei had seen him through every breakthrough, even as they bickered (more from Saturn than him nodding away in silent rage) and disagreed while the man hid his ultimate goal from someone he did genuinely cherish. This seemed to almost feel personal now. 

Rue  _ despised _ Ghetsis. It clouded his mind and impaired his usually-logical thinking. He worried about the intruders. If a child suffered the way he had and he was not there to stop things, he would never forgive himself.


	19. I Wonder If Your Therapist Knows About Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some exposition about Saturn because he actually does care about his pal :(

Saturn worried for his friend after the last time they met. Rue was never the type to ask for favours, and yet he had been told to live well and not to look for him. He hated thinking about him, but he couldn’t stop his concern from how cryptic and resigned his friend had seemed. Not after that ominous message Rue left him when he decided to first disappear, and certainly not after the first few encounters where he felt that Rue had drastically changed. 

He remembered the first time he had met Rue. They had both been grouped together as a pair for a project as the “rejects” of the class: Rue due to his inability to grasp emotions and him due to his feminine voice and questionable work ethics. They had covered each other’s faults at the time, him being the one to do all the legwork while Rue calibrated the invention they had tried to make in the background and in the end, it was an easy A for the module and he and Rue became inseparable. 

They had many grand ideas together, and from there Sei had gleaned snippets about Rue’s difficult but bland family life. Sei never had that privilege with staunchly middle class parents who pinned high hopes on him, and they could only get him a wild Croagunk caught in the forest outside their family home as his first Pokemon, which meant that he had plenty to prove going to a prestigious school where everyone and their friends touted specially bred pseudo-Legendaries. The expressionless boy with his enthusiastic Sneasel was the only person that captured Sei’s interest, precisely because he wasn’t a snoot like the others and seemed to at least value his grit in managing to study there. 

It made him susceptible to Rue’s ideals of how recreating the world was better for everyone. He was so charismatic-  _ too _ charismatic, even, and the lonely Sei grew increasingly attracted to this ideal, to the point of suggesting he and Rue start a partnership with changing the world for the better. From there, Team Galactic had been born, and Rue threw himself headlong into the research of time and space. Sei began to balk as he felt the other man, or at least what he knew about him slip away, and it all ended at the suicidal summoning attempt at the Spear Pillar where he suddenly realised that it seemed as though he had never known Rue at all. Rue had hid so much from him, and when everything crumbled, Sei was alone again picking up the remnants of the disaster he had created. 

He still worried nonetheless. Even though this shook his resolve, Rue had reached out only to him to inform him he was well the first time. Sei of course knew such insanity was not the solution to any of Rue’s worries, but it was cruel to try and separate the identities at this point. It was better to leave Rue be where he was. He actually seemed happy and at peace with himself for once, and as his best friend? This was the only thing Sei would wish for him. Pacing around the office in Veilstone, he stared out of the window and watched the sun set as though heralding the first week he had not heard anything, feeling his heart sink as he glanced to the application on his laptop. 

He knew Rue could go for months or years without reappearing, but this time he just wanted anything to cling on, anything to tell him he was still with them.  _ Please ping. Please ping. Please ping. _ He repeated this like a mantra in his mind as he rapped the side of his table, fervently praying for a signal. After Rue had reappeared in Veilstone the first time, Sei had managed to convince him to take the tracking anklet. It wasn’t like he was worried about his best friend just disappearing on him without a word or anything. They kept in touch through calls as well, Rue leaving him voice messages updating him about the status of the world he was in and inviting him countless times to visit whenever he was able to. Every time, he refused. 

Sei didn’t see himself being able to abandon all his duties just to see his friend. While he had been tempted here and there, especially at times where the loneliness just was too much to bear, he had responsibilities to handle. Unlike Rue, he intended to uphold them. He had too much to think about. Extremism wasn’t the answer. 

Frankly, he didn’t know what was going through him when he saw that the anklet actually worked as intended. He didn’t expect the anklet to persist in a different dimension that he had no idea of the physics or logistics. He remembered convincing Cynthia that this was the best they could do for their leader, and it was simply better to leave Rue be in the other world than try to force him into therapy or anything else that was too drastic. It would never end well otherwise. Rue was apathetic and logical, but he didn’t see himself as insane. Convincing him of that fact would only leave Rue even more broken and angry than he already was from his parents’ treatment of him. Sei would rather die than try to shake his friend out of his dream at this point. His friend was thriving and radiant. Who was he to stop him? 

Sei ruffled his hair in annoyance, sinking back into his office chair before his eyes darted towards the monitor again. He leant forward, eyes suddenly widening at the radar going off. Rue was arriving...in this very space-- 

The shadows warped around the room unnaturally and spat out the familiar blue-haired man, battered but seemingly smug as he glanced towards Sei with a smile filled with bloodied teeth. Sei’s eyes darted between his best friend willingly putting himself in danger again (and  _ smiling _ , he hadn’t smiled since nearly killing himself at Spear Pillar), then to the large presence in the room before falling from his chair in shock, cycling away quickly on his feet in an attempt to put as much distance between him and the  _ legendary fell beast of Sinnoh _ as possible but also shield his friend. 

“You’d have to go through me,” he hissed feebly at the creature in the room with him, trying to put bite in his statements while he fumbled in his coat for whichever Pokeball he could find first, “You can’t hurt him anymore, I’ll make sure of it.” He felt something brush against his mind, as though probing him and quickly stiffening, but his stance remained uncompromising. The mental chuckle threw him off, though, and he knelt against Rue in a frantic attempt to find a solution for him. 

_ It was not me. He did good this time, Saturn _ , the mental voice rang through Sei’s mind, and he cradled his broken friend in his arms,  _ If only you knew the pains he went through to ensure you were safe. An interesting specimen, I would say.  _

Sei stiffened at the statement, before glancing down at the figure in his arms. He seemed almost relaxed, something he never thought the usually tense man could ever look. “...Rue? Stay with me, buddy,” he managed softly, holding him as gently as he could, “I’m getting help for you, ok? Stay with me, please…” His eyes began to mist over as he summoned his Toxicroak to request for security. 

He couldn’t lose Rue again. Not after the Spear Pillar and him leaving without a word. Never again. 


	20. Grave Concerns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Champion's job isn't as cracked up as it is sometimes.

Cynthia took off in a run when she heard about Cyrus reappearing: but this time, it was different, and he was looking much more worse for wear than she remembered. As she dashed into the Pokemon Center, the first thing she noticed was the bloodied Saturn catatonically petting the familiar Weavile in his lap, staring off blankly into the distance. 

“Can I ask--” she began as the dead-eyed man glared back up at her, “...Forget it. Later, I guess.” The Weavile seemed equally hurt, though, chunks of fur missing from her as though she had been in a massive fight herself, but as she sleepily nuzzled in Saturn’s arms, she wondered how close Cyrus had been to him to have his Pokemon look this comfortable in the care of the other man. 

The only sound from them both seemed to be the purring of Weavile as she slept comfortably, and eventually Saturn rose, carrying the Pokemon as one would a small child towards one of the side rooms. Cynthia followed, entering the ward to see the battered man laying in the bed, his face scratched up and cracked shades sitting on the bedside table. Saturn tucked Weavile in with him, the Pokemon instinctively reaching for her owner as she huddled under his arm. She watched in silence at the surprisingly tender display from the usually jokey Commander, standing in the room with him as one of the doctors approached to speak with Saturn, addressing matters in harsh tones. 

She caught glimpses of their dialogue- “Pokemon attack”, “shielded with his body”, “potentially even worse than before”. If this were anyone else, they would’ve burst into incredulous laughter. Cynthia schooled her face into a tight, pensive mask, seemingly frustrated now. Had Giratina finally lost its patience with him? He had shielded a Pokemon attack with  _ his own body _ . Was that really the same Cyrus she knew, who had no qualms sacrificing others in other to achieve their aims? 

Saturn accepted the belt of Pokeballs from the doctor, glancing back to Cynthia with an air of contempt. “What do you want, you nosey fucking bitch,” he growled, his Toxicroak mimicking the gesture with a leer, “You’ve got your wish. He’s incapacitated. You don’t have to keep running after him now or second-guessing where he’s going to hide next. Congratu-fucking-lations.” 

“I’m just checking in as his parole officer. It’s League rules,” she defended herself, raising both hands and taking a step back, “How’d you find him, anyway? If he was brutalised by--” She fell silent at his gaze before she could proceed with her hypothesis, Saturn slinging the belt over his shoulder as he began to leave. He didn’t turn around when he spoke to her next, but an air of finality had crept into his tone. They sounded very alike, Cynthia mentally noted. It seemed their partnership had stretched beyond just Galactic alone. 

“I don’t care about the fucking League. I’m just a dude trying to make an honest living with whatever I’ve got left,” he sighed, the grip on the belt growing looser with the fight taken out of him as he began to rant, the stress of seeing his colleague that way seeming to remove his filter, “Leave us alone. You’ve got everything you need from him. Just let him live his life. Let  _ me  _ live,  _ please _ . You’re not doing us any favours barging into Veilstone every two days to interrogate me about where he is because half the time, I don’t fucking know either. And harassing his  _ grandfather _ ? For a Champion, you’re acting real fucking low poking around the man’s private affairs like that.” 

He spat on the ground before her, his Toxicroak belching in tandem before they both began to leave, leaving her alone in the corridor. She approached the doctor again, asking specifically how he had gotten there: as much as she sympathised with Saturn and understood why he was being protective, a job was a job and she had to see this through. 

Cyrus had been attacked by a Pokemon, the wounds seeming like he had thrown himself upon something else to protect them. She noted with curiosity however that they were bites and singe marks, which didn’t match Giratina’s appearance and description. Giratina supposedly could breathe fire, but it had a  _ beak _ . It would not have been able to inflict such large bite wounds judging from the size, let alone bite and exhale fire at the same time. It had to be something else: but what? It was so out of character for Cyrus to act so  _ emotional _ about things. To throw himself over something to protect them with his body seemed so different from the mental image she had of him. 

She made the preparations and quietly thanked the doctor about the matter, before giving a sigh and sagging into a chair when she was certain nobody else was looking. Being the Champion really wasn’t all that cracked up to be, and she suspected that Cyrus wouldn’t admit to who actually attacked him even if he was conscious. Brickwalled again. With another resigned huff, she began to leave. 


	21. Escalation: Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keep you like an oath, 
> 
> may nothing but 
> 
> death
> 
> do 
> 
> us
> 
> part.

The man could feel himself pick up speed as he reached the final floor, his Pokemon still fainted and in their respective balls when he burst forth. Sure enough, Ghetsis was present with his blade to a young girl’s throat, threatening the other children and Guzma to surrender their Pokeballs. His fists clenched, the shadows quivering around him as he strode forth, the other man’s face flickering from surprise to derision as he hurled himself at them both, breaking the man’s grapple on the girl before holding him by the lapels of his robes. 

His shadow grew, unfurling and stretching to cover the entirety of the room before another man stepped through from it: a blonde, bespectacled figure with a blue streak of carefully gelled hair before him. The man couldn’t feel himself in control anymore as the world began to blur, his furious but feeble punches raining down upon the fallen man until at last he was dragged off by Guzma, letting out a bellow of rage while he continued to kick and buck against his strength. 

Colress turned to him as the shadow did not ebb, instead taking its altered forme and stepping out, bearing down upon the fallen Ghetsis with an air of amusement. Everyone had summoned their own Legendary Pokemon they had brought from their world, chained to a Master Ball with no free will. The man carried his around at all times, never revealing all his cards until he was ready. Giratina landed on its six legs, turning to the children before returning to the man with a slight bow of its head. 

_ I honor your agreement. We shall leave _ , it addressed him, though its form seemed to stretch over the ceiling instead,  _ Where will you go?  _ The man broke away from Guzma’s grip, stumbling to his feet as he wiped the cut forming on his face with the back of his hand. His shades had been cracked by the flailing man, and he was not exactly athletic himself, but he had work to do. He didn’t reply, still glaring at the fallen frame of the cloaked man. The beast floated in wait, ever patient and vigilant. 

He wanted Ghetsis  _ dead _ . He hadn’t wanted anyone dead so fervently for the longest time. The outburst hurt his brain, but it was too late for him to hold back. He pulled back his fist, readying another blow when he felt a blast sear into him from behind, the beast immediately retaliating with a beam of its own...it was  _ such _ a dick move, but entirely expected. He stumbled forward again, seeing the Hydreigon that was still standing lunge at the renegade: before he stepped forth, taking the brunt of the hit with his body. He couldn’t let it take the hit for him. It had protected him enough. The least he could do was return the favour for it showing itself. 

Giratina blinked as he crumpled in pain, wounds aching as he stared at the final Pokemon advancing upon him. It batted its wings, creating a portal to the first location it could sense the man think of and they escaped, trying to get the man to safety as quickly as it could. They warped again, time and space morphing away as at last, they emerged on the other end of the office in Veilstone. 


	22. you'll find your way; and may death find you alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who could this possibly be? 
> 
> The babysitter/prison warden finally gets a voice.

What was the meat vessel thinking, hurling his squishiness into harm’s way the way he had? Giratina couldn’t understand. One moment he claimed he was emotionless and had no attachments. The next moment he was inches away from murdering a second meat vessel for taking a smaller one hostage. He was inconsistent, calling himself a god without any spirit and yet pulling stunts like this. That fascinated it. Perhaps not all meat vessels were craven. He was very strange indeed. 

If anything, observing its prisoner work in and around his cottage was immense entertainment. He had never made any motion to catch it, either. All it did was to follow him out of its own free will. They were in a _partnership_ , after all: the meat vessel had declared this from the very beginning. Maybe after all these eons of loneliness, it had finally found someone compatible. It didn’t bend to the meat vessel’s will and he, the same. He didn’t seem to care about how possessive it was, or how he was always trapped in the Distortion World as it usually were. In fact, he seemed...happy to be there. 

Unprecedented, it observed, marveling inwardly at this new discovery. There may be hope for its mirror just yet. 

Floating close to the unconscious meat vessel from its shelter in the shadows, it pinged his mind again telepathically, searching for a response. It had picked up memories while he slept, and he had allowed it free reign of his thoughts. He was coldly logical and methodical, it noted with curiosity. Everything to the meat vessel was a step-by-step process that needed to be followed down to the fine print, with no deviations. His mind was strange and different from other meat vessels. This only fed its curiosity letting him run amok in its plane. He took nothing and left little behind. 

It laid in wait, attentive. The meat vessel had led it to his only companion, and it had manifested itself to him. The companion had then sent the meat vessel for assistance in this “Pokemon Center”, where he now lay unconscious. It scanned the worlds it had access to, wary now of retaliation. For now, it would be patient. Its _partner_ would return soon enough, and they had business to attend to.


	23. Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just gotta give the depressed, charred man a little hug.

Everything ached in the man when he stirred. He felt the lump under his arm shift and move to snuggle up more, recognising the familiar touch of his favourite companion almost immediately as he blinked to clear the sleep from his eyes. While the man could barely see a few inches from his face due to the light, it was thankfully dim enough that he didn’t feel the need to go immediately unconscious again. Taking in his surroundings, his eyes roamed to Sei asleep in a chair next to him, resting on the bed with his arms cushioning his head while his Toxicroak snored under it. 

“I have returned,” he managed a hoarse whisper to his best friend, “Worse for wear, but I honored my promise to return.” Sei finally stirred, cracking open a turquoise-colored eye to glare back at him before he sat up with a stretch, popping the sore joints in his back and wrinkling his nose in disgust at showing weakness to him. Rue closed his eyes again, turning away with a slight smirk on his features. He knew Sei would be mad about the entire thing, but he was certain his best friend would support him doing what was right to protect others. 

“You came back in  _ pieces _ ,” Sei stressed with his voice morphing into a whine, unable to keep the annoyance out of his tone, “Two strikes, Rue! Two whole strikes! Third strike and you’d really be dead! What the fuck were you even thinking, throwing yourself like a goalkeeper in front of a raging Pokemon? That seems like something  _ I’d _ do, and I’m going to preface it with the fact that I’m usually pretty levelheaded and intelligent. You’re tearing this damn family  _ apart _ , Rue. I hope you’re happy that you’re leaving me a  _ widower _ so early into the relationship.” 

For most people, it just seemed like the reformed commander of Team Galactic was throwing a temper tantrum. Rue however knew Sei well enough to know that he was deliberately being overdramatic to hide how worried he had been, and managed to lower his head in guilt and shame despite being racked in pain. He hated that Sei made him feel certain ways, or even feel in general. It made him so much more susceptible to the way Sei moved sometimes, and he wasn’t certain if Sei was even conscious of that fact. He stared off to the side, unable to meet Sei’s predictably admonishing gaze. 

He didn’t understand or relate to Sei’s anger the same way. To him, he had done the right thing. Why was Sei so angry? Even then, Rue felt worse than if he were just grappling with the physical injuries sustained. From his side of the bed, he glanced to check again for his shadow and heaved a small, relieved sigh noticing its presence. 

Sei tucked him in again- before pulling him into a back hug, burying his face into his shoulder while he shuddered in near-silence. Rue stiffened, visibly unused to the affection as a wave of pain shot through him, but he relented quietly without a word of protest about the matter. If it were anyone else, Rue would’ve panicked and Weavile would do the rest. For Sei, though...he relaxed into the other’s arms, but not reciprocating the hug as they lay in silence. 

“I...sorry,” he managed again when it grew too unbearable, seeming actually remorseful about the matter than to placate Sei as he would with others, “I made you worry, did I not? Is that why you are so upset?” There he was again, breaking things down into logical sequences. He had reappeared injured and bleeding out. Sei was the last person he saw. The injuries were very likely unexplained, coming from something that was never native to Sinnoh. It made sense to him why Sei would’ve panicked about the matter. 

He however knew that he saw things differently from the other man, even throughout their years of partnership. Sei had a spirit rife with passion and anger, yet remained disciplined as always beneath his lazy and incompetent mask. Rue appreciated that. It also was why he knew he could never tell Sei what he had in mind in the end...Sei would be relentless in his approach to stop his ascension, not because he couldn’t support it but he feared what Rue would eventually become if he allowed it. He couldn’t let such petty emotions stand in his path. It was a white lie that would stay that way. 

Sei held him for a few more moments, before he hastily got off the bed and released the other from his grip, wiping his eyes furiously and trying to seem firm. “When you’re getting discharged, you’re staying with me. Don’t dick off to the other world. You’re fucking injured. I don’t want you floating in zero-G and making yourself worse,” he replied quickly, brows tightly knit and showing he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Rue opened his mouth to protest now, forgetting himself: how could he abandon his world as reigning monarch? Sei’s glare silenced him and he shut his eyes, trying to rest as much as possible until he felt someone else join him. 


	24. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rue gets a horrible realisation about what he's missed over the decade.

He turned and Weavile gave a small whine of surprise seeing who it was, before he slowly sat up, allowing his eyes to adjust and take in the old man sitting across him. He seemed much older, and it struck him how merciless time had marched on even when he was suspended in being completely ageless in his own world. Immediately, he lowered his gaze and covered the scratched part of his face, suddenly heavily conscious of his appearance compared to his often blaise attitude about things. He didn’t say a word, letting his grandfather take him in for a few moments before he reached out to Rue, gently holding his hands in his own calloused one. 

“Why were you so  _ silly _ ,” he whispered to Rue, cupping his cheek with his free hand as he regarded his only grandchild with misted-over eyes, “You kept avoiding me because you were worried about me, weren’t you? Sei said you two were living together, and you were just so busy to contact me. I thought...the news...the police came and told me…if he hadn’t told me anything...” He trailed off, beginning to choke up as he was unable to continue his next words. Rue carefully caressed his grandfather’s face, the stiff expression he always held beginning to soften into something like a shadow of a smile. 

Of course Sei would’ve lied about them. He knew how obsessive Rue was with not letting his grandfather know of his legacy and descent into genocide. Rue took his grandfather’s hands, and held them closer to himself as though craving the comfort he was granting him and looking every bit like the child his grandfather remembered him as. What was supposedly a comforting reunion scene seemed to be every bit more heartbreaking when the man remembered, no, was  _ haunted _ by the fact of what he was leaving behind. 

“They wanted to believe, grandpa, that I would kill myself when my business failed,” he managed to find his voice and reply, putting on a small smile despite his pain to reassure the other man, “Visit us, please. Or better...stay with us. Sei needs as much help as he needs.” In front of his grandfather, all his tactics seemed to fail. He knew how easy it could be to say what a stranger would want to hear. To someone who had unconditionally cared about his well-being even when he was forsaken by all else, someone he hadn’t spoken to or approached in a decade to protect them? Words escaped him. A god should not have such investment in the lives of mere mortals, but here he was. 

He needed to keep his faithful subjects with him at all times, if he had to be trapped in the waking world, with its spirit and emotionally driven pursuits. The encounter with Ghetsis taught him no less. If he didn’t amass all his subjects now, he would indeed be ruling over no-man’s land if his pursuits backfired upon him. Murmuring to his grandfather politely about being tired, he released himself from his arms (they were as comforting as he remembered, even if they were only a distant memory at this point) before being helped back to his original laid down position again. 

Weavile saw the old man out, leading him through the door by tugging at his pant leg and giving a small flourish as he left. Such treatment was only restricted to the person her owner seemed closest to, and after she was certain the older man had left, Weavile climbed back into bed and curled up in a lump again near her owner, nestled against his chest. The man gazed at his own shadow forlornly, the eyes once again staring back at him like his own reflection. 

“Am I growing weak,” he spoke to the beast, barely bothering to hide his concern about the matter, “My emotions, reprehensible and difficult, return due to my incomplete spirit. I had assumed we quashed them when you took me that fateful day at the Spear Pillar, so long ago...yet they have arisen, over and over, to interfere with me. Do you see where I am heading with this?” 

_ My job is balance. Your emotions have little to do with what I regulate. Our partnership prevails primarily because I keep you within this sphere of balance.  _ the voice replied in his mind, so quiet that it was barely above a whisper,  _ Believe what you must. I shared my world with you and kept you within for a decade. It is time for you to see the light for what it is, Cyrus.  _


	25. A Fresh Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a family are four reformed criminals and their pets.

He moved in with Sei, on his insistence. The first people who visited, to his eternal surprise turned out to be Mazu and Pit, the other two commanders of the old Team Galactic. They were different now, he noted with amusement. Once these two couldn’t even _stand_ to be in the same space as each other, and they had now arrived holding hands and muttering bawdy jokes into each other’s ears. A decade as monarch meant he was outside their sphere of contact, anyway. It was interesting to see how much had changed without him. It was good that they had moved on so quickly. 

Mazu offered him a basket filled with pastries, a big smile on her face. She seemed so much calmer than the hotheaded loudmouth he remembered hiring, and as he leafed through the items in the basket, she seemed almost bashful. “Didn’t know what you’d still eat, boss Cyrus,” she explained without his prompting, “So Jups and I bought out the bakery. It’s a happy occasion! Saturn texted us to say he managed to keep you here at least for a while. Treat it like a vacation away from your ~majestic new world~!” 

Rue turned to Pit, who merely shrugged in reply. “Mars got carried away. As usual,” she replied, rolling her eyes, “After you left, we both quit. Charon was an asshole anyway. I hated his stupid face. At least you gave logical instructions to follow. We faffed around a bit as vagabonds picking fights at Stark Mountain, then Saturn called us back when you popped out of that wormhole the first time. It’s a happy occasion, she’s not wrong.” She paused, seeming almost thoughtful before she asked her next question carefully, as though treading lightly around him. 

“Will you be staying for good? Like, forever?” she eventually eked out, looking hopeful, but huffed when he reached for one of the danishes in the basket without answering. There was no need to answer the question. She knew the answer anyway. Flopping into a couch, Jupiter took out her phone and started texting, content to be quiet for now while the man quietly ate his pastries. Mars on the other hand had slid over, gesturing to him and pointing to her phone. 

“Selfie time. You know what that is, boss?” she enthused, and he stared ahead at the screen unblinkingly when she snapped away, “It’s all the rage nowadays. You can take photos of yourself without having someone else do it for you. When your eyes get better, I’ll show you.” He blinked confusedly from beneath his shades: how much had Sei shared with them anyway? Did she really think she could cure his condition, considering it stemmed from constantly being in darkness? He shook his head slightly: preposterous, before putting the basket away and picking up one of the many books he had been given to pass the time. 

Pulling out a magnifying glass from his vest, he pored over the text and shut out the others who had come to celebrate his return, going quiet once more. He hadn’t read anything for a while, and even then it was still a struggle when he was unable to make out the small text. Mazu whined when she was no longer paid attention to, slinking to the kitchen to join Sei and steal something for herself. Pit joined them as well, the trio catching up about each others’ lives and about their ex-boss as well. They mumbled some grudging agreements, but hushed seeing Rue glance up from his book and returned to working on the food. Some things didn’t change, it seemed, and gossiping behind their ex-boss’s back happened to be one of them. 

Eventually, he was ushered to a seat with the other three and they began sharing about what they had done since the first time he had disbanded Galactic. Mazu and Pit had found stable work working for Sei as a part of his R&D department. Sei had gone into sustainable energy resources harnessing the energy that Pokemon gave off during evolution as a part of rebranding Galactic, and Rue was heartened to hear of the changes. They had a sense of direction, and Galactic persisted despite his absence. It only meant that his job was done, whether he accepted this or otherwise. 

Mazu picked at her food, seeming contemplative. “Boss...you know…” she began falteringly, a stark contrast from her usual spitfire attitude, “When Saturn said you got taken, I started...doing research. I wanted to go get you back. Now I’m seeing you and you look so much better. I think maybe Saturn was right that I didn’t have to go pick you up. You had everything under control.” Rue remembered the first time he had interviewed her for the position as Commander, the young girl with her Glameow who didn’t seem afraid of him or anyone else. Now, she had matured, her red hair growing over her shoulders as she looked towards him with a small smile. He nodded, placing a hand over her shoulder in his own way of showing affection. 

“You did well, Mars. I know this is a decade late for everyone in this room, but we did well,” he spoke once again, still as soft as he had held himself to, “Galactic is no longer, but the bonds you all made seem to hold strong. That is the least I can ask for. Solidarity amongst us is what we need right now, but has Saturn instructed you on our next course of action?” Murmurs rose from Mazu and Pit, glancing to each other and shrugging before Sei stood up, using the spoon he had been eating with as a microphone. 

“We’ve got places to be, you guys. First stop: Alola, we’re picking up some gratitude packages from the Aether Foundation after boss kicked out some of their intruders,” he declared, to whoops and cheers from the rest as Mazu finally started digging in with gusto at the direction they were taking next, “After we settle down, boss and I are going to go get some fresh air. Could you imagine seeing the sun after the eternal winters Sinnoh gives us? It’s going to be  _ wild _ .” Rue placed the magnifying glass in the book as a bookmark before shutting it, quiet but not bothering to correct them. His subjects were happy about the changes being made and being able to travel. He had no reason to interfere. 

Sei hadn’t known what occurred there, except for the fact that he had reappeared injured and the Aether Foundation just happened to have records of the scene where he had thrown himself onto Ghetsis. The Aether Foundation had extended an olive branch in allowing Rue access to their research of the “Ultra Beasts” as thanks, alien creatures that had appeared across the region from dimensions unlike theirs, and thus strengthen his own defenses within his own plane. He had much to discuss with Lusamine about the matter, and this made him wonder how much she had shared with Giovanni in her imprisonment within the castle while they were there. 

One thing still troubled him. Sei had lauded Rue as a hero while lamenting how out of character this was. If only he knew that Rue was the usurper and not the heroic presence he seemed to assume. Rue wondered if the child he had rescued was alright, even after everything. They were all equally his subjects within the castle. She probably had made it out unscathed. As the conversation turned into rabble about climbing Alola’s Battle Tree (their equivalent of the Battle Towers here), he began to eat instead, seeming still deep in thought. If Ghetsis was at large, he needed to find some time to get away from Sei and meet Colress. Colress’s expertise would be invaluable in his expansion. The problem was holding his commanders’ attention away from him enough to be able to work on his own while they had their “vacation”. 

He liked them enough. This was just a little too suffocating for a man who had lived in complete solitude for decades, and he couldn’t imagine Sei letting him wander off alone after the scare at Spear Pillar. He needed to formulate plans to drop them off somewhere before having the beast teleport him away. The conversation had now shifted into ribbing Sei about him and more bawdy humor, and his eyes shifted unconsciously towards the shadow that was pooling on the floor. 

_ Relations are truly suffering, is it not?  _ The voice chuckled in his mind,  _ How nice of them to go on vacation with you when you could effortlessly invoke my ability to go alone. You would be surprised that the man you seek still resides in Alola. Do not worry about them. For us both? It would be a refreshing new experience.  _

The beast’s words caused him to hide a scowl, returning to eating in small bites. He didn’t want to think about it. 

They’d cross the bridge when they got there. 


	26. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't die I swear

Alone in his room, Rue pulled out a Pokeball from his coat. It was unique, tapered with black markings on its sides and sprayed painted entirely red (even the button) and the shadow that engulfed his room peeled away to peer at it with interest. Rue noted from beneath his shades how battered it seemed, having been attacked by Dialga before and even assisting him during Rainbow Rocket. 

_ A Cherish Ball. You had this in mind to capture me?  _ questioned the voice with disdain,  _ You know you cannot bind me in the same way you do with your Pokemon. It is mutually assured destruction if I leave the realm I govern.  _ He placed the ball back inside without any argument, taking out another item and shaking it. The medicine was gold with a green nozzle, which he used to treat the much-larger creature that bobbed in the middle of his room. It was so tall that it was pressed up against the ceiling, a rumble of pain and annoyance escaping it as the bruises on its body healed over with the Full Restore used on it. 

“Run amok with wounds all you want. I carry myself differently,” Rue sighed, feeling like an utter hypocrite saying what he did. The creature’s red eyes seemed to form amused slits at this display, its wispy form taking shape as the six-legged wyrm that Rue had grown too familiar with. Partially submerging itself in shadow, it left its head and most of its torso exposed, staring at the man with curiosity as he tended to the wounds that he couldn’t reach otherwise. When it seemed to feel better enough, it sank back to leaving just its head above the shadows that took up most of the room. 

He returned the item to his coat, shrugging it off and hanging it elsewhere. Dressed in a teal woollen sweater, his arm and most of his back remained bandaged as he laid on his side, careful not to apply pressure to his own wounds while he tried to rest. It felt too comfortable. Everything seemed like a distant dream than anything. Even the room felt the same way he remembered it, occasionally crashing at Sei’s place after long hours of research. All he needed were neatly arranged on the shelves, a simple cabinet he could store his clothing and possessions while a comfortable bed was propped against the window where he would stare out of. 

“The offer stands,” he replied to seemingly nothing in particular, keeping his voice low and discreet when he informed the other presence in the room, “It does not need to be a partnership that exclusively benefits me.” When he got no reply, he tried to sleep instead, his dreams the same void he remembered leaving not too long ago. 


	27. Interlude 3: Just a Bit of Minor Foreshadowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff between the totally not boyfriends as they prepare for their trip.

“We could just teleport to Alola. Do you not have coordinates to the Aether Foundation,” Rue put down his magnifying glass and turned to Sei, who was busily stuffing his suitcase with summer apparel and snacks, “And I do not think you need that many Old Chateaus. You act like we are leaving Sinnoh forever and you would never see an Old Chateau again.” Sei huffed, compromising on pulling out one case of Old Chateau to fit his portable charger: which was immediately spirited away by Weavile who had been lying in wait to start eating. 

“We could, but also the League would yap up our asses about how you’re breaking the clauses of the tracker,” Sei replied with a shrug and a pout, “Better to just book that air ticket and call it a day. They already approved you leaving with the paperwork I put in,  _ you’re welcome _ , thank me later. Besides, the airport might have souvenirs! Mars already said she wants Masaladas, however we’re going to transport those back. She also says she wants a Stufful, but I don’t think we’d be allowed to just wade in and steal a native Pokemon like we did back in the old days.” 

“They seem flaky. I do not think they would last. Maybe they come in boxes like the Old Chateau,” Rue observed in passing from poring over “Grimsley’s Guide to Alola”, the hit sensation of one of the Unova Elite 4 members writing a book of his travels there (he didn’t understand the appeal, but begrudgingly admitted it was at least  _ somewhat _ helpful), “Would Mars and Jupiter join us? I believe you mentioned they would join us a few days later. Something about a stopover at Unova?” Sei shut his suitcase and propped it up, dusting his hands before giving Rue an ok-hand gesture. 

“Hoenn, actually. They wanted to pick up something I ordered from the Weather Institute for me. I said they didn’t have to, but Jupiter insisted she needed to pay someone there a visit so I let them be. Less work for me sending Alakazam to pick it up and come back, really.” He raised a brow at the duo leaving to Hoenn, remembering Archie and Maxie again. Rue vaguely wondered how those two ecoterrorists were doing, but shut it out in favor of packing his own suitcase. They were the barest of necessities, along with an extra set of shades in the face of potentially bright sun. Sei peered over, pointing out things he might need that was missing before removing them from his own suitcase to drop them into his- much to Rue’s chagrin, who had already catalogued everything down to its positions and disliked having complications.

To distract Sei and pack his suitcase  _ again  _ after that horrible disruption, Rue enquired about the item his other companions were picking up. It seemed to be a weather predictor of some kind, so that they could predict patterns and adjust their resources to contain as much energy as possible (though Sei joked about it only predicting snow). The machine seemed to lift his mood slightly amidst the rearrangement and Sei teased him by booping his nose with a wide smile. 

“On the bright side, we don’t have to see Cynthia again. Bitch needs to mind her own business.” Sei grinned brightly and wrinkled his nose at this, “We’re going to have a blast. I think you’d need it, too. Just unwind a bit and have fun! Treat it like we’re hanging out as per normal.” 


	28. Be Careful What You Wish For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cynthia is everywhere! I love her.

“Shiro?” 

Cynthia looked behind her to see the Professor approach her, a worried expression on his brow as he was accompanied by her grandmother. She had wanted to get a bit of time to herself at the Battle Tree of Alola after being invited, and the Professor suddenly visiting her the way he had worried her. 

“Yes, how may I help?” she replied with a smile, trying to seem enthusiastic and respectful about her duties. Professor Rowan offered her a polite smile in response, before simply cutting to the chase about matters. 

“It’s about Team Rainbow Rocket. They surfaced briefly in Alola, then suddenly ebbed. I don’t want to make speculations, but I have my concerns about such zealousness spreading to Sinnoh,” Rowan began, giving a slight nod, “They were researching Ultra Beasts, one of which seems to be able to evolve. Its name is Poipole, and I wish to find out further details. Would you be willing to head to the Aether Foundation to speak to Lusamine about it? She is aware that I will be sending you.” 

Cynthia tilted her head in confusion, but acceded. It did seem important, after all, but she was curious. Why send her? And what did Rainbow Rocket have to do with things? A million questions bubbled beneath the surface of her calm attitude, but she forced another smile and gave a nod of acknowledgement. As Professor Rowan left, her grandmother sat her down and clasped her hands in hers. 

“Be safe, child,” she instructed Cynthia, “I have heard that the boy you seem to be in charge of is also headed to Alola with his friend. I know he has given you a hard time. Maybe you should give him a wide berth while vacationing.” Cynthia stiffened:  _ Cyrus _ ? On  _ vacation _ ? It almost seemed unlikely with how reserved the man was, and she grew suspicious. These two things seemed almost definitely related. She reassured her grandmother, trying to seem confident, but her mind spun with the possibilities of Cyrus appearing in Alola the way he would. It would either mean he had another agenda or was unwillingly sent there somehow. She needed to get to the bottom of things. 


	29. Concerns and Paranoia

The flight to Alola was uneventful, beyond Sei and Rue enjoying their partner Pokemon being strapped in baby chairs during the trip. Weavile squirmed throughout, looking both offended and angry at the treatment while Toxicroak seemed quiet, only an occasional ribbit escaping the large frog as it quietly sat where it was. Sei had dozed off midway through the short flight, and Rue found himself staring out of the window most of the time instead. He felt so insignificant, cramped in an airplane with the rest of these people and their Pokemon. 

His shadow had vanished when he boarded the flight after a back-and-forth where he explained to the beast that while it was a shadow and all that, it still had weight and would raise too many questions (not to mention being a safety hazard to all). The compromise was the Cherish Ball or meeting them at the airport, and the beast had chosen the latter. He didn’t like this, as much as he felt slightly better outside of the beast’s scrutiny. They had been awkward after the conversation surrounding the Cherish Ball, anyway. 

As the cart tinkled over, the helpful stewardess at its helm asking if he wanted any drinks, Rue had gotten Sei some orange juice and put it in his holder. Sei honked, lifting his head to see what was happening before turning to Rue with the brightest smile anyone could muster. “You got me juice? You didn’t have to,” he cooed loudly, nuzzling him lightly on the neck before quietly asking  _ is this the day I die _ in a whisper. Rue offered Weavile a packet of cookies, which she tucked into messily before leaning back in his seat. 

“Just drink it already,” he muttered to Sei, having had his eyes shut for most of the journey- they were thankfully flying at night, but he didn’t see the need to take any chances. Sei took a playful nip of his neck before withdrawing, drinking the juice while the visibly now awkward stewardess hurried away. Rue would’ve rolled his eyes but that would mean opening them, so he proceeded to sigh instead in disapproval. “Was there no other way than attempting to get intimate with me? She was just doing her job.” 

“Best way to have them never speak to us for the rest of the journey,” Sei replied, before snuffling around his neck again, a gesture that earned him a smack on the forehead by the other man, “Could you imagine if they recognised either of us? Thankfully I chose to fly under the Alolan airline instead.” He whined obnoxiously at the hit, but Rue opened his eyes feeling a sudden chill run down his spine before glancing out of the window. He watched in silence as a strange figure seem to pass, someone who seemed oddly familiar but was too far to fully make out the appearance of. He pushed this out of his mind, content to shut his eyes again and rest. 

Treat it like a vacation, Sei said. He intended to honor that. 


	30. Concerns and Paranoia: Confirmed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sei does a frighten receiving a parcel meant for him. 
> 
> Who could it be?

As they settled in their hotel, Weavile happy to run amok now that her feet could touch the ground, Rue watched his shadow converge and grow slightly longer while sitting on the bed. He had put on his shades again when it was safe, the airport staff not raising any questions when he went through customs. It seemed like Sei would take some time in the bathroom anyway, he mused while rubbing his arms. He scratched Weavile lightly on the head while she purred and nuzzled his leg, glancing out towards the horizon. 

He already didn’t like the weather outside. It was too warm, and he was wearing too little. Sei had found him some T-shirts and shorts for the occasion, and he disliked showing this much skin. Rue was skeletal, whether he enjoyed admitting to this or not. Examining his almost completely hairless self in the mirror, he seemed to be unable to reconcile what he was looking at to how he remembered himself to be. Where were his eyebrows? Right. They had fallen off decades ago when he was too stressed and never grew back. It made him look older than he actually was. 

He was much thinner than he remembered, the scars from the bite still visible on his arms and some scars from his encounter in Spear Pillar on his neck that led down his back. The ones from Giratina were interesting. They seemed more like rope burn marks that never went away than actual scars, and he studied himself again even more critically. It was too warm to think. He already didn’t want to leave the comfort and safety of the hotel room. 

Sei returned from the bathroom, clean-shaven and dressed in a comfortable polo shirt and shorts before showing it off (his Toxicroak did the same pose despite not wearing anything) to him, looking pleased at things. Rue tugged at his Sinnoh Research Center shirt with a sigh, before getting up from his seat on the bed to get himself shaved too. The unnatural shadow followed along while Weavile sat outside, waiting patiently for her owner to get ready. 

He checked the room service menu for any snacks they could probably get before turning in, completely forgetting that to Rue, the time of day never mattered. As Sei slid onto his bed to pick up the phone, Toxicroak pointed to the door when a knock resounded through the room. “What kind of  _ heathen _ knocks on doors at 2am in the morning?” he grumbled, sliding off the bed to open the door but only noticing a parcel at his feet. 

It seemed the deliveryperson was nowhere to be found, and his heart jumped into his throat when he noticed the letter attached loosely to the parcel’s top that stated very clearly:  _ To Cyrus, Saturn, Mars and Jupiter _ . 

With shaking hands, Sei carefully detached the letter from the package and opened it to have a look first.  _ For our friends at Team Galactic, may you enjoy your vacation here. _ The parcel was unsigned, and he pulled out his metal detector to give it a cursory scan before letting Toxicroak lift it: the frog did so with little difficulty, holding it above his head dutifully and trotting over towards the coffee table. He glanced left and right from his room once more, already feeling the paranoia in his veins. Was this how Rue felt being constantly followed by what-who-must-not-be-named? Sei left the package untouched, sitting on his bed with menu forgotten before muttering a quiet prayer to Arceus about its contents. 

Nobody except the League back home knew of them leaving, or their titles at this point. After ten years of rebranding, Galactic’s current status was that of a renewable energy firm, and everyone had assumed Rue had died in his endeavour on Spear Pillar. Who could it have been to have sent them a package so specifically addressed? Sei’s thoughts ran wild as he wrung his hands again, worried for the first time in a decade about what they were getting themselves into. He trusted Rue with all he had. He didn’t want it compromised for anything, but this was starting to throw a spanner in the works for him. 

Rue emerged from the bathroom without his shades, ruffling his damp hair with a towel and tilting his head in concern at the new package in the room. He began to open his mouth to ask, but was quickly interjected by Sei explaining and dropped his stance. Sei rarely lost composure from the decades Rue had known him, unless he himself or Galactic was under severe threat. This was definitely serious, and he waved his hand for Sei to keep talking while he laid down instead. 

“For us. For our  _ titles _ ,” Sei’s voice was weak and subdued, barely a whisper, “They even signed it for the other two. They knew the four of us were coming to this exact--  _ fucking _ \-- room.” He buried his face into his hands, leaning forward with a shudder of both fear and resignation. A short silence followed before Sei found his words again. “...I’m scared, Rue. Whoever they were, they knew we were coming. There’s metal in that thing. If we blow up before Mazu and Pit come, we’re done. This has to be some assassination plot from someone who knew about us a decade ago.” 

Weavile picked up the parcel now, and the man instructed with a hand gesture for her to drop it somewhere- Sei watched agape as she dunked the parcel into his shadow, where it was promptly absorbed by the creature within and disappeared. “If the parcel will harm us, it would have gone off the moment Toxicroak touched it. I knew you would not touch the parcel with your bare hands,” Rue broke things down calmly while Weavile prodded at his shadow, “They could be tracking devices, which we would not be strangers to. We should not be surprised that other villainous teams may have designs on us, even if we have chosen the side of good now.” 

The items floated up to the surface of the shadow, which Weavile picked up and placed on the table. There was some sort of goop that clung to it, and Sei wiped them off with a towel to reveal the strange bracelets and several shining crystals alongside them. Psychinium Z and Darkinium Z, rare Z-crystals that were used to power up Pokemon moves to create a devastating effect. Rue did not hide his scowl seeing the contents. He didn’t trust that these items were obtained through legitimate means, that he was certain of. Weavile packed them into the box again and closed it, fluffing up the cushions on the coffee table before curling up with a jetlagged yawn. 

“We file an anonymous police report,” Rue declared, and the color drained from Sei’s face, “Return these to their respective owners, and act like the good tourists we are. Just declare it a wrong delivery. We should not have too much difficulty.” 

Sei nearly fainted, not only because he was exhausted but also baffled by Rue’s suggestion.  _ File a police report _ ? With their  _ commander titles _ upon the package itself? It was akin to suicide! Why would they even accept that? He laid down across Rue, his arm dramatically pressed across his eyes as he let out a resigned groan. 

“Why are your ideas consistently awful?” he asked, though there was no bite in his tone, “I hate you, I hope you know that.” 

Rue rolled over, seemingly beginning to doze off. “We have work to do tomorrow. I will speak to you again about it, Sei.” 


	31. Mysteries and Ripoffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throw two scientists together on a trip and you get them buying stupid crap for themselves.

The scare with the parcel saw Sei go out like a light. When Rue was certain Sei was asleep, he carefully extricated himself from his sheets and slid his feet off towards the ground. His head spun from vertigo and generally being unused to the heat of Alola, but he forced himself to his feet before gently tapping the ground with his foot. 

_ Back to bed you go,  _ the voice instructed at his signal, and Rue hid a scowl at the shadow beneath at it refusing his command,  _ I am not bringing you to Colress so early in the day. We may not need sleep, but the mortals do.  _ He returned to sleep instead with this, keeping his position of having his legs on the ground and instead holding himself in a hug. This would persist until the next morning where Sei woke up first, noticing the man’s position and trying to lay him down to something more proper.

He laid down without protest, arms still wrapped around himself as he continued to sleep. Sei chalked it up to him hiding his worry about the package, which they had dropped off at the nearest post office as a “mistaken delivery” but as he walked around the shopping district, he narrowed his eyes noticing the familiar woman shopping at the antiques stand. She examined a Looking Glass with curiosity, having not noticed him just yet and eventually walked further into the center to view other items. 

Sei began to stride forward, intending to give Cynthia a piece of his mind: but a tug on his arm held him back and he turned to see one of the booth owners staring earnestly back at him. “I don’t have--” he grit out, trying to shake the arm off but the old man tugged him a bit closer towards the orbs he was selling, and Sei stiffened noticing the familiar orbs on display. How did  _ that _ get there? It was believed that it was lost in the Distortion World...but Sei wasn’t one to dismiss such theories easily. He lifted the gold orb in his hand, studying it for a few moments before turning to the antique shop owner. 

It was probably just a cheap replica. They couldn’t possibly have the actual Griseous Orb on display in a ripoff of an antique shop, anyway...right? 

“How much for this?” he asked, unable to stop his curiosity.

\-----

Rue woke up exhausted and disoriented, just the way he liked it. The Distortion World had never allowed him proper rest, and even in the waking world it seemed that this would be no different. He shuffled to the door seeing Sei back from his shopping trip, but what caught his attention was the orb he clutched in both hands and the gentle smirk he held immediately dropped to something much sterner. 

“How did you get this?” he muttered, pulling Sei inside and shutting the door, “Do you even know what the Griseous Orb does?” Rue had done his research about the matter: the orb, thought lost in the Distortion World would have allowed the beast to keep a corporeal form in the waking world and prevent the link between their worlds from closing. It was a key to a lot of perspectives and created a well-needed bridge, but also made it incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. 

They quibbled over the orb like the scientists they were, pulling out gadgets and magnifying glasses to research its energy and effects. It seemed to match the energy of the Adamant and Lustrous Orbs they had picked up a decade ago trawling the Spear Pillar, and this baffled Rue greatly. It seemed too good to be true. To be frank, Rue’s first assumption had been that it was probably just a cheap duplicate that happened to mimic similar energy signatures by exposing it to the Spear Pillar, now a popular hiking spot for fledgling Trainers. Not like it wasn’t uncommon for traders to try and hawk their legends to foreign forces in the first place, and Sinnoh-born Pokemon were a dime a dozen with the introduction of the famed Pokemon Bank system, allowing them to be safely transported through cyberspace. 

Sei shrugged at this development- it was cheap from what he got, and he wasn’t about to complain about  _ that _ . Rue tossed the orb into his shadow and it sank like a stone in water, the man not thinking too much about it and figuring the beast might enjoy mocking a failed specimen of its most powerful conduit. 


	32. Delicate Sensibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff, and a chance encounter too.

He opened up the map again, looking for places they could head to: while Sei was gone, he had gotten an earful from some of the staff members about trying to ride his Magnezone outside and had instead gotten rental Ride Pokemon instead, which meant that they could both share a ride on the Charizard ride if Sei wanted to.

“Mount Lanakila seems pleasant,” Sei piped up, pointing it out on the digital hologram Rue had projected in the middle of the room, “Seems like that’s where the League is for the Alola region. We automatically qualify without beating their trial since you have all eight Sinnoh badges and curbstomped the Champion back home too, but it could be fun.” Rue expanded the hologram by locking into it, pulling up weather conditions and Pokemon density before giving a small, sharp laugh through his nose. 

“I am not certain if we came here on vacation, or are going back to Sinnoh again,” he snarked back, looking slightly amused, “The weather up there is comparable to Snowpoint, and teem with Ice-type Pokemon. We may as well head home.” Sei huffed at this, tugging at the device Rue had in his hands before wrenching control over it to mouse over the region in general. 

“Fine, mister wise guy, we’ll go to Wela Volcano Park instead. I hope you fucking get heatstroke,” he huffed and Rue pushed the button to lock in on the area, tilting his head in curiosity viewing the weather in comparison to the mountain from earlier. An active volcano? That could be interesting. He didn’t remember Sinnoh having any. It would be nice to expand his horizons. There seemed to be one of their “trials” ongoing there as well. Defeating some trainers along the way could help with the exchange rate too. 

He shrugged noncommittally, letting Sei take the lead as they headed outside. The first thing Rue felt was the scorching heat of the region, along with the glare in his eyes that he knew would immediately blind him if not for his shades. Most people barely spared them a second glance as they released the ride Charizard to head off, and Rue found himself struggling to steer the new Pokemon as they took off. It knew where it was going, but Rue liked his routines. He liked riding on Magnezone because Magnezone floated at a specific pace, and a speeding fire lizard was nothing like the comfortable and stable flights he was used to. 

Despite his immense discomfort, Rue noticed that Sei was having the time of his life (he preferred blasting off on his Bronzong, anyway) and managed to regain his bearings to steer them towards Wela Volcano Park. As they dismounted and sent the Ride Charizard away, Rue stumbled away to throw up what remained of his breakfast while Sei jeered and laughed at his misery. They eventually made their way up the mountain together, intending to do some sightseeing of their own. As Sei cooed at the new Pokemon he was passing by, Rue found himself needing to sit down almost immediately as the heat began to blur his vision.

In his haze, he narrowed his eyes seeing the woman approach before she paused in almost surprise noticing who he actually was. “You again,” she began, but her tone was calm compared to their encounter at Iron Island, “Didn’t think you’d come to Wela Volcano Park considering how hot it’ll be for us. Have you seen the Salandit or local Marowak variant yet? I thought they might fit you.” Cynthia chuckled, pulling her hair aside: she was dressed comfortably as well in a short-sleeved polo shirt and bermudas along with running shoes, striding over a bicycle without her usual entourage in tow. 

Rue in comparison looked an utter wreck, and he raised a brow at her ramblings while Sei wrangled some of the local fauna. A Marowak  _ variant _ ? That was news to him. So many things he’d missed from his decade away, and she gave him a little waggle of her fingers in goodbye as she rode off. 

“Wait,” his voice rang out, surprising even himself as she paused to turn around, “Are you on vacation as well?” A cautious question, nothing less even as she glanced in curiosity at him before she tilted her head almost teasingly, as though playing coy about the matter and maintaining an air of mystery about things. 

“You’re not the only person who can go on vacation,” she replied with a chuckle, “I needed some downtime to myself, too. Figured I’d try climbing the Battle Tree. That’s all you need to know, I think. I suppose you’d probably try your luck doing the same. Who knows? We might end up fighting again.” Rue looked away staunchly from beneath his shades, and Cynthia shrugged before she finally left, cycling down the slope she’d come from.


	33. A Detour?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scientists gotta do what scientists gotta do.

Weavile grumbled as she retreated, flopping into Rue’s lap and chittering in protest before Sei returned with a Salandit in his hand, looking eager to show off his new discovery.

Sei watched Cynthia draw away and scowl visibly, releasing the lizard into the grass (he was always fascinated by such creatures anyway), quietly asking Rue if she had threatened him before he stiffly shook his head, slow and baffled. It all felt like too much of a coincidence, and hastened his need to see Colress. “Perhaps we can return to this place. How about heading straight to the Aether Foundation?” he suggested gently to his companion, and Sei tilted his head before puffing his cheeks out almost comically. 

“I thought we agreed we’d wait on Mazu and Pit,” he protested, and Rue searched his features with this almost apathetic air of curiosity. No such agreement had been established. Sei was buying time for something: probably the parcel, again. The parcel seemed to be the forefront of both their worries. Rue wanted  _ this _ too to be settled, and quickly. Who would be possessed to send them such items? He flicked open his Poketch, searching who would have been legally able to give out the two Z-crystals they had obtained as they headed back down the mountain, meandering unconsciously towards the trailer he knew Colress took up residence in. 

While the Psychinium Z was not given out by any known figures, Rue hid another scowl noticing who seemed to be the only one legally able to award Darkinium Zs to challengers: an older policeman who had set up an outpost in front of an infamous town that was overrun by Team Skull. No venture, no gain. It seemed that would be their next stop, just to ask a few cursory questions. 


	34. Glimmer and Gloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the person who thought calling all my plot points "expected" was a compliment.

Po Town seemed to always be raining, and Sei opened up an umbrella to shield them both from this, grumbling the entire way. Rue however moved away from it, fascinated to stand in the rain he hadn’t felt in so long. It almost seemed unfamiliar to him at this point, but he relished this for a few more moments before at last, the slightly hunched man emerged from his post to greet them both. 

“I’ve heard things about you both. Figured that if I was getting a warning that you two would show up eventually,” the man spoke dryly, casting Rue a knowing smirk as he ushered them inside, “Don’t seem to think you two had anything in mind, though. Or were you checking in on those Z-rings you got and returned like the Good Samaritans you are?” 

Sei paled visibly at the incisive remark, but the older man merely grinned dangerously. Rue was more absorbed at the messy state of the police post: manned alone, it was milling with strange-looking Meowth that didn’t seem to care too much about the visitors or anything. It was quite telling that all these were unexpected of someone supposedly manning the police post. The other man before them scratched his head again, red eyes glancing between the two men before swaying on his feet almost lazily. 

“Name’s Nanu. I’ve heard of you two from Looker, who insisted you’d be here for some foul play. Me? I just think it’s stupid to lay all my cards on the table,” he drawled, showing defined canines while he spoke, “If you’re wondering about those Z-rings? Complimentary from Guzma. He wanted it delivered. Said it was for someone who helped scratch his back in the Aether Foundation.” Rue raised a brow, stance remaining stiff as ever at the mention of Looker, the incompetent detective who had meandered through regions in his poor attempts to be relevant. 

Nanu seemed to see through his disgust and gave a hearty belly laugh. “Don’t worry, you’re not the only person who thinks that about Looker. I had my doubts back when Annabelle tried to vouch for him, too. Either way? Count your blessings about Guzma. He’s not usually the type to grant favors, but you must’ve done him a good turn to have him so generous. Begged and then fought me for that Darkinium Z, yes he did. Didn’t think him that type of guy.” As Nanu shared this, Sei grew increasingly confused but Rue remained stony as ever at this confirmation. 

It was strange indeed that Guzma was the one to repay him, or the fact that they had actually been in the same timeline after all. The white-haired gangster didn’t seem the type to hold gratitude. Perhaps the child he saved before was of importance, or he held ties to Lusamine that he turning against Giovanni aided his purpose. Nanu slipped his hands into his pockets and hunched again, whistling to one of the Meowths to fetch something. It slipped off and dutifully rifled through the cabinets, once again offering them the bracelets and respective Z-crystals. 

Nanu pulled Rue aside while Sei fidgeted with the Z-ring, happily putting it on seeing as it seemed to be from “Rue’s friend”. “You’re definitely tied to Rainbow Rocket, I’m sure of it,” Nanu warned lowly, his red eyes shifting to sharp as he spoke to the other younger man, “But you somehow brought them down despite not being with Guzma and the others. Reappearing here is just painting a huge target on your back. From what I read from your file, I thought you’d be smarter than that. Why this, and why now?” 

Rue’s eyes shifted disinterestedly towards the worried man, seeming amused.  _ Was that all that he was worried about? Converged timelines?  _ “They invited me. It did not fit my agenda, so I merely let your friend and the children he babysat pass. You need not send me such a warning,” he answered truthfully and rather blaisely, seeing no reason to mask this now that he was aware of how much Nanu knew, “I care not about your timelines. I approach this from the perspective of a researcher and not the villain you seem obsessed with painting me as. I hope you understand.” 

Nanu sighed, ruffling his hair again as he adjusted the ring around Rue’s wrist: they were holding this hushed conversation with his claims of needing to help Rue calibrate the Darkinium Z crystal. “I trust Looker, you know. A stopped clock is right twice a day. Just don’t betray the trust of the people who brought you here, yeah? I know the Aether Foundation folk owe you a favor for pulling that stunt from before. I’m only giving you face because I heard you threw yourself in front of Lillie,” Nanu continued softly, clicking the crystal in place, “Just by talking to you? You don’t seem too shabby a person for some crazy villain across the shore.” 

“I apologise for your expectations,” Rue quipped back calmly, examining the bracelet around his wrist and weighing it gently- he mentally noted the name down, however, “You may yet be further disappointed knowing I will be speaking to their scientists about their projects, as well.” Nanu tilted his head, releasing his hands from the bracelet as Sei skipped over obliviously, insisting he had to help with his bracelet too. Rue and Nanu exchanged knowing glances, seeming on the same page before he receded, letting Sei get some time with Nanu as well. Weavile had by then gotten into a hissing fight with one of the strange Meowths that littered the post, and Rue’s eyes wandered to one of the computers that seemed to be left on. 

On it, there was a blurred display of a strange, jellyfish-like creature, nothing he had seen before even from years of researching the unknown. He remembered hearing of a new initiative from Giovanni when he had been working with Rainbow Rocket: an initiative to secure strange alien beings known as the “Ultra Beasts”. Rue tore his gaze away as he scooped up his grumbling Weavile, holding her as he would a child and patting her on the back to calm her down. Weavile immediately snuggled in with a doofy grin, and Rue gave a sweeping bow to Nanu when he was able. 

To that, Nanu merely gave a dismissive wave and returned to the computer Rue had stolen a glance from, clicking through files and ignoring them. The Meowths returned to lounging around once again, one climbing into Nanu’s lap while he idly scratched it on the back. Sei jerked his head towards the exit. “Let’s go!” he cheered, and Rue plodded out into the rain with him once again. 

While Sei was in better spirits, the image weighed heavily on Rue’s mind. Could it be…? Was that why Nanu seemed so adamant on warning him? He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t waver now. 


	35. The Other Side of the Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's just straight up not having a good time.

Po Town was unkind to Shiro when she came by. She and Guzma already didn’t see eye to eye. When she arrived it was taken as a show of force from the Sinnoh League, and Guzma met her personally. She hadn’t quite expected this much resistance despite her questions, but if she wanted to speak to Lusamine, she knew she had to go through Guzma as well. They seemed to go hand-in-hand, which baffled her. From her years moving through the regions, she hadn’t seen a known villain cooperate the same way these two seemed to. 

Guzma glared her down from one of the overturned buses in the dilapidated town, tutting almost derisively at her arrival. “Well, well, if it ain’t the toughest Champion of the land,” he drawled, licking his lips as he pushed his shades away from his face, “Sad to say you’ve made a wasted trip! I’m all clean now, and that old coot Nanu who’s stationed outside’s goin’ to make good of that. Make it snappy, or my kids are gonna make things personal. You may be tough, but you can’t take all of Skull at once.” 

Shiro seemed almost amused at this obvious posturing: was he trying to threaten her? “I just wanted to ask about something,” she replied, raising both her hands in surrender after recalling her Garchomp, “We can talk, right?” 

Guzma squatted down, eying her warily from his perch and the shades he wore easily keeping the rain out of his face: Shiro suddenly recognised how much  _ younger _ he was compared to her. Inexperienced and reckless, it explained why he was so emboldened surrounding by his gang. He jumped off the bus, hands in his pockets as he nodded towards the door to the mansion before them before swaggering inside, Shiro following under the cautious gaze of the strange punks surrounding them both.

Guzma collapsed upon his throne, and Shiro sat in the other chair across him. He raised a hand, glancing towards her with a slight smile as the doors shut behind him. “Kukui told me you were comin’. Guy always had the better bent for goodness and being the big helpful League Champion. Pity he got creamed by some kid,” snorted Guzma as he gestured around the room, “You wanted to know how I was summonin’ those Beasts to Po Town, right? Woman of relics and understandin’ the unknown, just dyin’ to figure out how ya boy Guzma pulled it off.” 

At this, Shiro straightened immediately: she had heard of his destruction here not too long ago, where he fought back against the Island leaders almost effortlessly with the alien beings he’d summoned, but with how relaxed he seemed, it didn’t feel like he was the least bit remorseful about the matter. Her silence only caused Guzma to lean forward, grinning down at her. “You got beaten to it,” he continued with a wink, before standing up and grabbing his jacket that had been tossed over the box of strange crystals next to him, “If you think I’m giving that information up for nothin’, you’ve got a big storm comin’ from destruction in human form himself.” 

Shiro’s jaw clenched. He wanted a battle no matter what, and utterly decimating him was not one of the things she intended to do (she was better than this, she tried desperately to convince herself but she could feel her patience running thin). Shying away from it would mean the people who saw her here would hunt her down either way and whittle her down further. It didn’t seem that she had any choice. “Fine,” she replied, standing up and unlatching one of the balls from her belt, “If you want a battle, so be it. I just have one question before we start.” 

Guzma raised a brow, vaulting off his perch and removing a ball of his own off his belt. “Yeah? You sure got plenty of questions for someone who’s about to get put into the ground,” he taunted, eyes scanning her with contempt and curiosity, “I’ll be real nice and give you the answer. You wanna know who’s the person who beat you to this whole business? Ask your pal Cyrus.” 

“He’s not my--” Shiro protested before her blood ran cold at the admission, searching the man’s face for foul play. It did make sense, really but she couldn’t trust it. They were both bosses of their individual organisations, past and present. Had they already colluded without her knowledge? If the ability to summon aliens at will fell into his hands...she shook her head mentally before turning back to Guzma with a smile, “You’re bluffing. If Cyrus had the capacity to do so, he would have done so already. He’s nearly done it once in Sinnoh. Why wouldn’t he do it again with what he has?” 

Truth be told, she wasn’t certain herself. Cyrus had waited years to unleash his master plan upon Spear Pillar, so much so that the takeover itself only took a matter of months. He was able to wait a decade before hustling through this. What made them so certain that Guzma was lying? For all she knew, Guzma was just buying time for him. She’d just have to roll with the worst case scenario and apologise later if it meant she was wrong. Her intuition demanded it. 

Guzma balked at the woman’s words, but masked it with an easy smile as he sent out the familiar Golisopod he often touted. He gave a calm gesture of her to proceed with her first Pokemon, suddenly seeming relaxed. “He’s a smart one, I’ll give him that. Real patient sort too. Poor guy’s got no friends: but I ain’t givin’ up on helpin’ him when he did me a good turn first,” he replied, squatting down and staring at her, “You wanna get what I know about those Ultra Beasts? You best be prepared to wrench it outta my cold dead hands first.” 

Shiro sighed, the insults and taunts falling off to the side as she readied her stance and not picking up on what Guzma actually  _ had _ meant. Saturn had said much worse things in her many meetings with him, having blamed her from the start to the end for exiling Cyrus at Spear Pillar and letting the man “die” even before. 

“Very well then. If I must beat you to get information? So be it,” she finally exhaled, sending out her Togekiss in response, “I’ve long wanted to measure the strength of an Alolan trainer anyway. Let’s do it.” 


End file.
